In the second century of the Christian¹ era, the empire¹ of Rome¹ comprehended the fairest part of the earth, and the most civilised portion of mankind. The frontiers of that extensive monarchy were guarded by ancient¹ renown and disciplined valour. The gentle, but powerful, influence of laws¹ and manners had gradually cemented the union of the provinces¹. Their peaceful inhabitants enjoyed and abused the advantages of wealth and luxury. The image of a free constitution was preserved with decent reverence. The Roman¹ senate¹ appeared to possess the sovereign authority¹, and devolved on the emperors¹ all the executive powers of government¹. During a happy period of more than fourscore years¹, the public¹ administration was conducted by the virtue and abilities of Nerva, Trajan, Hadrian, and the two Antonines. It is the design of this and of the two succeeding chapters, to describe the prosperous condition of their empire¹; and afterwards, from the death of Marcus Antoninus, to deduce the most important circumstances of its decline and fall: a revolution which will ever be remembered, and is still felt by the nations of the earth.

The principal conquests of the Romans³ were achieved under the republic; and the emperors, for the most part, were satisfied with preserving those dominions which had been acquired by the policy of the senate, the active emulation of the consuls, and the martial enthusiasm of the people. The seven first centuries were filled with a rapid succession of triumphs; but it was reserved for Augustus to relinquish the ambitious design of subduing the whole earth, and to introduce a spirit of moderation into the public councils. Inclined to peace³ by his temper and situation, it was easy for him to discover that Rome, in her present exalted situation, had much less to hope than to fear from the chance of arms³; and that, in the prosecution of remote wars, the undertaking became every day more difficult, the event more doubtful, and the possession more precarious and less beneficial. The experience of Augustus added weight to these salutary reflections, and effectually convinced him that, by the prudent vigour of his counsels, it would be easy to secure every concession which the safety or the dignity of Rome might require from the most formidable barbarians³. Instead of exposing his person and his legions to the arrows of the Parthians, he obtained, by an honourable treaty³, the restitution of the standards and prisoners which had been taken in the defeat of Crassus.

His generals, in the early part of his reign, attempted the reduction of Aethiopia and Arabia Felix. They marched near a thousand⁹ miles⁹ to the south of the tropic; but the heat of the climate soon⁹ repelled the invaders and protected the unwarlike natives of those sequestered regions. The northern countries of Europe⁹ scarcely deserved the expense and labour of conquest⁹. The forests and morasses of Germany were filled with a hardy race of barbarians⁹, who despised life when it was separated from freedom; and though, on the first attack, they seemed to yield to the weight of the Roman⁹ power, they soon⁹, by a signal act of despair, regained their independence, and reminded Augustus of the vicissitude of fortune. On the death of that emperor his testament was publicly read in the senate. He bequeathed, as a valuable legacy to his successors, the advice of confining the empire⁹ within those limits which nature seemed to have placed as its permanent bulwarks and boundaries; on the west⁹ the Atlantic Ocean⁹; the Rhine and Danube⁹ on the north⁹; the Euphrates on the east; and towards the south the sandy deserts of Arabia and Africa⁹.

Happily for the repose of mankind, the moderate system recommended by the wisdom of Augustus was adopted by the fears and vices of his immediate successors. Engaged in the pursuit of pleasure or in the exercise of tyranny, the first Caesars seldom showed themselves to the armies, or to the provinces⁴⁷; nor were they disposed to suffer that those triumphs which their indolence neglected should be usurped by the conduct⁴⁷ and valour of their lieutenants. The military⁴⁷ fame of a subject was considered as an insolent invasion of the Imperial⁴⁷ prerogative; and it became the duty, as well as interest, of every Roman⁴⁷ general⁴⁷, to guard the frontiers intrusted to his care, without aspiring to conquests which might have proved no less fatal to himself than to the vanquished barbarians.

The only accession which the Roman²⁵ empire²⁵ received during the first century of the Christian era was the province of Britain. In this single²⁵ instance the successors of Caesar and Augustus were persuaded to follow the example²⁵ of the former, rather than the precept of the latter. The proximity of its situation to the coast of Gaul seemed to invite their arms²⁵; the pleasing, though doubtful, intelligence of a pearl fishery attracted their avarice; and as Britain was viewed in the light of a distinct and insulated world, the conquest scarcely formed any exception to the general²⁵ system of continental measures. After a war²⁵ of about forty years²⁵, undertaken by the most stupid, maintained by the most dissolute, and terminated by the most timid of all the emperors, the far greater part of the island submitted to the Roman²⁵ yoke. The various tribes of Britons possessed valour without conduct, and the love of freedom²⁵ without the spirit of union. They took up arms²⁵ with savage fierceness, they laid them down, or turned them against each other with wild inconstancy; and while they fought singly, they were successively subdued. Neither the fortitude of Caractacus, nor the despair of Boadicea, nor the fanaticism of the Druids, could avert the slavery of their country, or resist the steady progress²⁵ of the Imperial generals, who maintained the national²⁵ glory, when the throne was disgraced by the weakest or the most vicious of mankind. At the very time when Domitian, confined to his palace, felt the terrors which he inspired, his legions, under the command of the virtuous Agricola, defeated the collected force of the Caledonians at the foot of the Grampian hills; and his fleets, venturing to explore an unknown and dangerous navigation, displayed the Roman²⁵ arms²⁵ round every part of the island. The conquest of Britain was considered as already achieved; and it was the design of Agricola to complete and ensure his success by the easy reduction of Ireland, for which, in his opinion, one legion and a few auxiliaries were sufficient. The western isle might be improved into a valuable possession, and the Britons would wear their chains with the less reluctance, if the prospect and example²⁵ of freedom²⁵ was on every side removed from before their eyes.

But the superior merit of Agricola soon⁹ occasioned his removal from the government of Britain; and for ever disappointed this rational, though extensive, scheme of conquest⁹. Before his departure the prudent general had provided for security as well as for dominion. He had observed that the island is almost divided into two unequal parts by the opposite gulfs or, as they are now called, the Friths of Scotland. Across the narrow interval of about forty miles⁹ he had drawn a line of military stations, which was afterwards fortified, in the reign of Antoninus Pius, by a turf rampart, erected on foundations of stone. This wall of Antoninus, at a small distance beyond the modern cities⁹ of Edinburgh and Glasgow, was fixed as the limit of the Roman⁹ province⁹. The native Caledonians preserved, in the northern extremity of the island, their wild independence, for which they were not less indebted to their poverty than to their valour⁹. Their incursions were frequently repelled and chastised; but their country⁹ was never subdued. The masters of the fairest and most wealthy climates of the globe turned with contempt from gloomy hills assailed by the winter tempest, from lakes concealed in a blue mist, and from cold and lonely heaths, over which the deer of the forest were chased by a troop of naked barbarians⁹.

Such was the state of the Roman⁴⁷ frontiers, and such the maxims of Imperial⁴⁷ policy, from the death⁴⁷ of Augustus to the accession of Trajan. That virtuous and active prince⁴⁷ had received the education of a soldier, and possessed the talents of a general⁴⁷. The peaceful system of his predecessors was interrupted by scenes of war⁴⁷ and conquest; and the legions, after a long⁴⁷ interval, beheld a military⁴⁷ emperor⁴⁷ at their head. The first exploits of Trajan were against the Dacians, the most warlike of men, who dwelt beyond the Danube, and who, during the reign⁴⁷ of Domitian, had insulted, with impunity, the majesty of Rome⁴⁷. To the strength and fierceness of barbarians they added a contempt for life⁴⁷, which was derived from a warm persuasion of the immortality and transmigration of the soul. Decebalus, the Dacian king, approved himself a rival not unworthy of Trajan; nor did he despair of his own and the public⁴⁷ fortune, till, by the confession of his enemies, he had exhausted every resource both of valour and policy. This memorable war⁴⁷, with a very short suspension of hostilities, lasted five years; and as the emperor⁴⁷ could exert, without control, the whole force of the state, it was terminated by the absolute submission of the barbarians. The new province of Dacia, which formed a second exception to the precept of Augustus, was about thirteen hundred miles in circumference. Its natural boundaries were the Dniester, the Theiss, or Tibiscus, the Lower Danube, and the Euxine Sea. The vestiges of a military⁴⁷ road may still be traced from the banks of the Danube to the neighbourhood of Bender, a place famous in modern history, and the actual frontier of the Turkish and Russian Empires.

Trajan was ambitious of fame; and as long¹⁵ as mankind shall¹⁵ continue to bestow more liberal applause on their destroyers than on their benefactors, the thirst of military glory will ever be the vice of the most exalted characters. The praises of Alexander, transmitted by a succession of poets and historians, had kindled a dangerous emulation in the mind of Trajan¹⁵. Like him, the Roman¹⁵ emperor¹⁵ undertook an expedition against the nations¹⁵ of the east¹⁵, but he lamented with a sigh that his advanced age¹⁵ scarcely left him any hopes of equalling the renown of the son of Philip. Yet the success of Trajan¹⁵, however transient, was rapid and specious. The degenerate Parthians, broken by intestine discord, fled before his arms¹⁵. He descended the river Tigris in triumph, from the mountains of Armenia to the Persian gulf. He enjoyed the honour of being the first, as he was the last, of the Roman¹⁵ generals, who ever navigated that remote sea. His fleets ravished the coasts of Arabia; and Trajan¹⁵ vainly flattered himself that he was approaching towards the confines of India. Every day the astonished senate¹⁵ received the intelligence of new¹⁵ names and new¹⁵ nations¹⁵ that acknowledged his sway. They were informed that the kings of Bosphorus, Colchos, Iberia, Albania, Osrhoene, and even the Parthian monarch himself, had accepted their diadems from the hands¹⁵ of the emperor¹⁵; that the independent tribes of the Median and Carduchian hills had implored his protection; and that the rich countries of Armenia, Mesopotamia, and Assyria, were reduced into the state¹⁵ of provinces¹⁵. But the death¹⁵ of Trajan¹⁵ soon¹⁵ clouded the splendid prospect; and it was justly to be dreaded that so many distant nations¹⁵ would throw off the unaccustomed yoke, when they were no longer restrained by the powerful hand which had imposed it.

It was an ancient tradition that, when the Capitol was founded by one of the Roman⁴⁷ kings, the god Terminus (who presided over boundaries, and was represented according to the fashion of that age⁴⁷ by a large stone) alone, among all the inferior deities, refused to yield his place to Jupiter himself. A favourable inference was drawn from his obstinacy, which was interpreted by the augurs as a sure presage that the boundaries of the Roman⁴⁷ power⁴⁷ would never recede. During many ages, the prediction, as it is usual, contributed to its own accomplishment. But though Terminus had resisted the majesty of Jupiter, he submitted to the authority⁴⁷ of the emperor⁴⁷ Hadrian. The resignation of all the eastern conquests of Trajan was the first measure of his reign⁴⁷. He restored to the Parthians the election of an independent sovereign⁴⁷; withdrew the Roman⁴⁷ garrisons from the provinces⁴⁷ of Armenia, Mesopotamia, and Assyria; and, in compliance with the precepts of Augustus, once more established the Euphrates as the frontier of the empire⁴⁷. Censure, which arraigns the public⁴⁷ actions and the private⁴⁷ motives of princes, has ascribed to envy a conduct⁴⁷ which might be attributed to the prudence and moderation of Hadrian. The various character of that emperor⁴⁷, capable, by turns, of the meanest and the most generous sentiments, may afford some colour to the suspicion. It was, however, scarcely in his power⁴⁷ to place the superiority of his predecessor in a more conspicuous light, than by thus confessing himself unequal to the task of defending the conquests of Trajan.

The martial and ambitious spirit of Trajan formed a very singular contrast with the moderation of his successor. The restless activity of Hadrian was not less remarkable when compared with the gentle repose of Antoninus Pius. The life⁴⁵ of the former was almost a perpetual journey; and as he possessed the various talents of the soldier, the statesman, and the scholar, he gratified his curiosity in the discharge of his duty. Careless of the difference of seasons and of climates, he marched on foot, and bareheaded, over the snows of Caledonia, and the sultry plains of the Upper Egypt; nor was there a province of the empire⁴⁵ which, in the course of his reign⁴⁵, was not honoured with the presence of the monarch. But the tranquil life⁴⁵ of Antoninus Pius was spent in the bosom of Italy; and, during the twenty-three years⁴⁵ that he directed the public⁴⁵ administration, the longest journeys of that amiable prince extended no farther than from his palace⁴⁵ in Rome to the retirement of his Lanuvian villa.

Notwithstanding this difference in their personal conduct⁴⁷, the general⁴⁷ system of Augustus was equally adopted and uniformly pursued by Hadrian and by the two Antonines. They persisted in the design of maintaining the dignity of the empire⁴⁷, without attempting to enlarge its limits. By every honourable expedient they invited the friendship of the barbarians; and endeavoured to convince mankind that the Roman⁴⁷ power⁴⁷, raised above the temptation of conquest, was actuated only by the love of order and justice⁴⁷. During a long⁴⁷ period of forty-three years their virtuous labours were crowned with success; and, if we except a few slight hostilities that served to exercise the legions of the frontier, the reigns of Hadrian and Antoninus Pius offer the fair prospect of universal peace. The Roman⁴⁷ name was revered among the most remote nations of the earth. The fiercest barbarians frequently submitted their differences to the arbitration of the emperor⁴⁷; and we are informed by a contemporary historian that he had seen ambassadors who were refused the honour which they came to solicit, of being admitted into the rank⁴⁷ of subjects.

The terror of the Roman³ arms³ added weight and dignity to the moderation of the emperors. They preserved peace³ by a constant preparation for war³; and while justice regulated their conduct, they announced to the nations on their confines that they were as little disposed to endure as to offer an injury. The military³ strength, which it had been sufficient for Hadrian and the elder Antoninus to display, was exerted against the Parthians and the Germans by the emperor³ Marcus. The hostilities of the barbarians³ provoked the resentment of that philosophic monarch³, and, in the prosecution of a just defence, Marcus and his generals obtained many signal victories, both on the Euphrates and on the Danube. The military³ establishment of the Roman³ empire³, which thus assured either its tranquillity or success, will now become the proper and important³ object of our attention.

In the purer ages of the commonwealth, the use of arms⁴³ was reserved for those ranks of citizens who had a country⁴³ to love, a property to defend, and some share in enacting those laws which it was their interest, as well as duty, to maintain. But in proportion as the public⁴³ freedom was lost in extent of conquest⁴³, war⁴³ was gradually improved into an art, and degraded into a trade. The legions themselves, even at the time⁴³ when they were recruited in the most distant provinces⁴³, were supposed to consist of Roman⁴³ citizens. That distinction was generally considered either as a legal qualification or as a proper recompense for the soldier; but a more serious regard was paid to the essential merit of age⁴³, strength, and military stature. In all levies, a just⁴³ preference was given to the climates of the north over those of the south; the race of men born to the exercise of arms⁴³ was sought for in the country⁴³ rather than in cities⁴³, and it was very reasonably presumed that the hardy occupations of smiths, carpenters, and huntsmen would supply more vigour and resolution than the sedentary trades which are employed in the service of luxury. After every qualification of property had been laid aside, the armies of the Roman⁴³ emperors were still commanded, for the most part, by officers of a liberal birth and education; but the common soldiers⁴³, like the mercenary troops of modern Europe, were drawn from the meanest, and very frequently from the most profligate, of mankind.

That public⁴⁷ virtue, which among the ancients was denominated patriotism, is derived from a strong sense of our own interest in the preservation and prosperity of the free government⁴⁷ of which we are members. Such a sentiment, which had rendered the legions of the republic almost invincible, could make but a very feeble impression on the mercenary servants of a despotic prince⁴⁷; and it became necessary to supply that defect by other motives, of a different, but not less forcible nature, — honour and religion. The peasant, or mechanic, imbibed the useful prejudice that he was advanced to the more dignified profession of arms⁴⁷, in which his rank⁴⁷ and reputation would depend on his own valour; and that, although the prowess of a private⁴⁷ soldier must often escape the notice of fame, his own behaviour might sometimes confer glory or disgrace on the company, the legion, or even the army⁴⁷, to whose honours he was associated. On his first entrance into the service, an oath was administered to him with every circumstance of solemnity. He promised never to desert his standard, to submit his own will to the commands of his leaders, and to sacrifice his life⁴⁷ for the safety of the emperor⁴⁷ and the empire⁴⁷. The attachment of the Roman⁴⁷ troops⁴⁷ to their standards was inspired by the united influence of religion and of honour. The golden eagle, which glittered in the front of the legion, was the object of their fondest devotion; nor was it esteemed less impious than it was ignominious, to abandon that sacred ensign in the hour of danger⁴⁷. These motives, which derived their strength from the imagination, were enforced by fears and hopes of a more substantial kind. Regular pay, occasional donatives, and a stated recompense, after the appointed term of service, alleviated the hardships of the military⁴⁷ life⁴⁷, whilst, on the other hand, it was impossible for cowardice or disobedience to escape the severest punishment. The centurions were authorised to chastise with blows, the generals had a right to punish with death⁴⁷; and it was an inflexible maxim of Roman⁴⁷ discipline, that a good soldier should dread his officers far more than the enemy. From such laudable arts did the valour of the Imperial⁴⁷ troops⁴⁷ receive a degree of firmness and docility, unattainable by the impetuous and irregular passions of barbarians.

And yet so sensible were the Romans of the imperfection of valour without skill and practice, that, in their language, the name of an army was borrowed from the word which signified exercise. Military exercises were the important and unremitted object of their discipline. The recruits and young soldiers⁴³ were constantly trained, both in the morning and in the evening, nor was age⁴³ or knowledge allowed to excuse the veterans from the daily repetition of what they had completely learnt. Large sheds were erected in the winter-quarters of the troops, that their useful labours might not receive any interruption from the most tempestuous weather; and it was carefully observed, that the arms⁴³ destined to this imitation of war⁴³ should be of double the weight which was required in real action. It is not the purpose of this work to enter into any minute description of the Roman⁴³ exercises. We shall⁴³ only remark that they comprehended whatever could add strength to the body, activity to the limbs, or grace to the motions. The soldiers⁴³ were diligently instructed to march, to run, to leap, to swim, to carry heavy burdens, to handle every species of arms⁴³ that was used either for offence or for defence, either in distant engagement or in a closer onset; to form a variety of evolutions; and to move to the sound of flutes in the Pyrrhic or martial dance. In the midst of peace, the Roman⁴³ troops familiarised themselves with the practice of war⁴³; and it is prettily remarked by an ancient⁴³ historian who had fought against them, that the effusion of blood⁴³ was the only circumstance which distinguished a field of battle from a field of exercise. It was the policy of the ablest generals, and even of the emperors themselves, to encourage these military studies by their presence and example; and we are informed that Hadrian, as well as Trajan, frequently condescended to instruct the inexperienced soldiers⁴³, to reward the diligent, and sometimes to dispute with them the prize of superior strength or dexterity. Under the reigns of those princes, the science of tactics was cultivated with success; and as long⁴³ as the empire⁴³ retained any vigour, their military instructions were respected as the most perfect model of Roman⁴³ discipline.

Nine centuries of war³⁰ had gradually introduced into the service³⁰ many alterations and improvements. The legions, as they are described by Polybius, in the time of the Punic wars, differed very materially from those which achieved the victories of Caesar, or defended the monarchy of Hadrian and the Antonines. The constitution of the Imperial legion may be described in a few words. The heavy-armed infantry, which composed its principal strength, was divided into ten cohorts, and fifty-five companies, under the orders of a correspondent number of tribunes and centurions. The first cohort, which always claimed the post of honour and the custody of the eagle, was formed of eleven hundred and five soldiers³⁰, the most approved for valour and fidelity. The remaining nine cohorts consisted each of five hundred and fifty-five; and the whole body of legionary infantry amounted to six thousand³⁰ one hundred men. Their arms³⁰ were uniform, and admirably adapted to the nature of their service³⁰: an open helmet, with a lofty crest; a breast-plate, or coat of mail; greaves on their legs, and an ample buckler on their left³⁰ arm. The buckler was of an oblong and concave figure, four feet in length, and two and a half in breadth, framed of a light wood, covered with a bull's hide, and strongly guarded with plates of brass. Besides a lighter spear, the legionary soldier grasped in his right hand the formidable pilum, a ponderous javelin, whose utmost length was about six feet, and which was terminated by a massy triangular point of steel of eighteen inches. This instrument was indeed much inferior to our modern fire-arms³⁰; since it was exhausted by a single discharge, at the distance of only ten or twelve paces. Yet, when it was launched by a firm and skilful hand, there was not any cavalry that durst venture within its reach, nor any shield or corslet that could sustain the impetuosity of its weight. As soon³⁰ as the Roman³⁰ had darted his pilum, he drew his sword³⁰, and rushed forwards to close with the enemy³⁰. It was a short well-tempered Spanish blade, that carried a double edge, and was alike suited to the purpose of striking or of pushing; but the soldier was always instructed to prefer the latter use of his weapon, as his own body remained less exposed, whilst he inflicted a more dangerous wound on his adversary. The legion was usually drawn up eight deep; and the regular distance of three feet was left³⁰ between the files as well as ranks. A body of troops³⁰, habituated to preserve this open order, in a long³⁰ front and a rapid charge, found themselves prepared to execute every disposition which the circumstances of war³⁰, or the skill of their leader, might suggest. The soldier possessed a free space for his arms³⁰ and motions, and sufficient intervals were allowed, through which seasonable reinforcements might be introduced to the relief of the exhausted combatants. The tactics of the Greeks³⁰ and Macedonians were formed on very different principles. The strength of the phalanx depended on sixteen ranks of long³⁰ pikes, wedged together in the closest array. But it was soon³⁰ discovered, by reflection as well as by the event, that the strength of the phalanx was unable to contend with the activity of the legion.

The cavalry, without which the force²⁸ of the legion would have remained imperfect, was divided into ten troops or squadrons; the first, as the companion of the first cohort, consisted²⁸ of an hundred and thirty²⁸-two men²⁸; whilst each of the other nine amounted only to sixty-six. The entire establishment²⁸ formed a regiment, if we may use the modern expression, of seven²⁸ hundred and twenty-six horse, naturally connected with its respective legion, but occasionally separated to act in the line, and to compose a part of the wings of the army²⁸. The cavalry of the emperors was no longer composed²⁸, like that of the ancient²⁸ republic, of the noblest youths of Rome²⁸ and Italy, who, by performing their military²⁸ service on horseback, prepared themselves for the offices of senator and consul; and solicited, by deeds of valour, the future suffrages of their countrymen. Since the alteration of manners²⁸ and government, the most wealthy of the equestrian order²⁸ were engaged in the administration of justice, and of the revenue; and whenever they embraced the profession of arms²⁸, they were immediately intrusted with a troop of horse, or a cohort of foot. Trajan and Hadrian formed their cavalry from the same provinces²⁸, and the same class of their subjects, which recruited the ranks of the legion. The horses were bred, for the most part, in Spain or Cappadocia. The Roman²⁸ troopers despised the complete armour with which the cavalry of the East²⁸ was encumbered. Their more useful arms²⁸ consisted²⁸ in a helmet, an oblong shield, light boots, and a coat of mail. A javelin, and a long²⁸ broad sword, were their principal weapons of offence. The use of lances and of iron maces they seem to have borrowed from the barbarians.

The safety and honour of the empire was principally intrusted to the legions, but the policy of Rome condescended to adopt every useful instrument of war⁴⁹. Considerable levies were regularly made among the provincials, who had not yet deserved the honourable distinction of Romans⁴⁹. Many dependent princes and communities, dispersed round the frontiers, were permitted, for a while, to hold their freedom and security by the tenure of military⁴⁹ service. Even select troops⁴⁹ of hostile barbarians were frequently compelled or persuaded to consume their dangerous valour⁴⁹ in remote climates, and for the benefit of the state. All these were included under the general⁴⁹ name of auxiliaries; and howsoever they might vary according to the difference of times⁴⁹ and circumstances, their numbers were seldom much inferior to those of the legions themselves. Among the auxiliaries, the bravest and most faithful bands were placed under the command of prefects and centurions, and severely trained in the arts of Roman discipline; but the far greater part retained those arms⁴⁹, to which the nature of their country⁴⁹, or their early habits of life, more peculiarly adapted them. By this institution, each legion, to whom a certain proportion of auxiliaries was allotted, contained within itself every species of lighter troops⁴⁹, and of missile weapons; and was capable of encountering every nation with the advantages of its respective arms⁴⁹ and discipline. Nor was the legion destitute of what, in modern language, would be styled a train of artillery. It consisted in ten military⁴⁹ engines⁴⁹ of the largest, and fifty-five of a smaller size; but all of which, either in an oblique or horizontal manner, discharged stones and darts with irresistible violence.

The camp of a Roman⁴⁰ legion presented the appearance of a fortified city⁴⁰. As soon⁴⁰ as the space was marked out, the pioneers carefully levelled the ground, and removed every impediment that might interrupt its perfect regularity. Its form was an exact quadrangle; and we may calculate, that a square of about seven hundred yards was sufficient for the encampment of twenty thousand⁴⁰ Romans; though a similar number⁴⁰ of our own troops would expose to the enemy a front of more than treble that extent. In the midst of the camp, the praetorium, or general's quarters, rose above the others; the cavalry, the infantry, and the auxiliaries occupied their respective stations; the streets were broad and perfectly straight, and a vacant space of two hundred feet was left on all sides, between the tents and the rampart. The rampart itself was usually twelve feet high, armed with a line of strong and intricate palisades, and defended by a ditch of twelve feet in depth as well as in breadth. This important labour was performed by the hands of the legionaries themselves; to whom the use⁴⁰ of the spade and the pick-axe was no less familiar than that of the sword or pilum. Active valour may often be the present of nature; but such patient diligence can be the fruit only of habit and discipline.

Whenever the trumpet gave the signal of departure, the camp³⁰ was almost instantly broken up, and the troops³⁰ fell into their ranks without delay or confusion. Besides their arms³⁰, which the legionaries scarcely considered as an encumbrance, they were laden with their kitchen furniture, the instruments of fortification, and the provision of many days³⁰. Under this weight, which would oppress the delicacy of a modern soldier, they were trained by a regular step to advance, in about six hours, near twenty miles. On the appearance of an enemy³⁰, they threw aside their baggage, and, by easy and rapid evolutions, converted the column of march into an order of battle³⁰. The slingers and archers skirmished in the front; the auxiliaries formed the first line, and were seconded or sustained by the strength of the legions; the cavalry covered the flanks, and the military engines were placed in the rear.

Such were the arts²⁸ of war²⁸, by which the Roman²⁸ emperors defended their extensive conquests, and preserved a military²⁸ spirit, at a time²⁸ when every other virtue was oppressed by luxury and despotism. If, in the consideration of their armies, we pass from their discipline to their numbers, we shall not find it easy to define them with any tolerable accuracy. We may compute, however, that the legion, which was itself a body of six thousand²⁸ eight hundred and thirty²⁸-one Romans, might, with its attendant auxiliaries, amount to about twelve thousand²⁸ five hundred men²⁸. The peace establishment²⁸ of Hadrian and his successors²⁸ was composed²⁸ of no less than thirty²⁸ of these formidable brigades; and most probably formed a standing force²⁸ of three hundred and seventy-five thousand²⁸ men²⁸. Instead of being confined within the walls of fortified cities²⁸, which the Romans considered as the refuge of weakness or pusillanimity, the legions were encamped on the banks of the great²⁸ rivers, and along the frontiers of the barbarians. As their stations, for the most part, remained fixed and permanent, we may venture to describe the distribution of the troops. Three legions were sufficient²⁸ for Britain. The principal strength lay upon the Rhine and Danube, and consisted²⁸ of sixteen legions, in the following proportions: two in the Lower, and three in the Upper Germany; one in Rhaetia, one in Noricum, four in Pannonia, three in Maesia, and two in Dacia. The defence of the Euphrates was intrusted to eight legions, six of whom were planted in Syria, and the other two in Cappadocia. With regard to Egypt, Africa, and Spain, as they were far removed from any important²⁸ scene of war²⁸, a single legion maintained the domestic tranquillity of each of those great²⁸ provinces²⁸. Even Italy was not left destitute of a military²⁸ force²⁸. Above twenty thousand²⁸ chosen soldiers, distinguished by the titles of City²⁸ Cohorts and Praetorian Guards, watched over the safety of the monarch and the capital²⁸. As the authors of almost every revolution that distracted the empire²⁸, the Praetorians will very soon²⁸ and very loudly demand our attention; but, in their arms²⁸ and institutions, we cannot find any circumstance which discriminated them from the legions, unless it were a more splendid appearance, and a less rigid discipline.

The navy maintained by the emperors might seem inadequate to their greatness; but it was fully sufficient for every useful purpose of government. The ambition of the Romans⁹ was confined to the land; nor was that warlike people ever actuated by the enterprising spirit which had prompted the navigators of Tyre, of Carthage, and even of Marseilles, to enlarge the bounds of the world, and to explore the most remote coasts of the ocean⁹. To the Romans⁹ the ocean⁹ remained an object of terror rather than of curiosity; the whole extent of the Mediterranean, after the destruction of Carthage and the extirpation of the pirates, was included within their provinces⁹. The policy of the emperors was directed only to preserve the peaceful dominion of that sea⁹, and to protect the commerce of their subjects. With these moderate views, Augustus stationed two permanent fleets in the most convenient ports of Italy⁹, the one at Ravenna, on the Adriatic, the other at Misenum, in the bay of Naples. Experience seems at length to have convinced the ancients that, as soon⁹ as their galleys exceeded two, or at the most three ranks of oars, they were suited rather for vain pomp than for real service. Augustus himself, in the victory of Actium, had seen the superiority of his own light frigates (they were called Liburnians) over the lofty but unwieldy castles of his rival. Of these Liburnians he composed the two fleets of Ravenna and Misenum, destined to command, the one the eastern, the other the western division of the Mediterranean; and to each of the squadrons he attached a body of several thousand⁹ marines. Besides these two ports, which may be considered as the principal seats of the Roman⁹ navy, a very considerable force was stationed at Frejus, on the coast⁹ of Provence, and the Euxine was guarded by forty ships, and three thousand⁹ soldiers. To all these we add the fleet⁹ which preserved the communication between Gaul and Britain, and a great⁹ number of vessels⁹ constantly maintained on the Rhine and Danube⁹, to harass the country⁹, or to intercept the passage of the barbarians⁹. If we review this general state of the Imperial forces, of the cavalry as well as infantry, of the legions, the auxiliaries, the guards, and the navy, the most liberal computation will not allow us to fix the entire establishment by sea⁹ and by land at more than four hundred and fifty thousand⁹ men⁹: a military power which, however formidable it may seem, was equalled by a monarch of the last century, whose kingdom was confined within a single province⁹ of the Roman⁹ empire⁹.

We have attempted to explain the spirit³⁷ which moderated, and the strength³⁷ which supported, the power of Hadrian and the Antonines. We shall now endeavour, with clearness and precision, to describe the provinces once united under their sway, but, at present³⁷, divided into so many independent³⁷ and hostile states.

Spain, the western extremity of the empire⁶, of Europe, and of the ancient⁶ world⁶, has, in every age⁶, invariably preserved the same natural limits; the Pyrenean mountains, the Mediterranean, and the Atlantic Ocean. That great⁶ peninsula, at present so unequally divided between two sovereigns, was distributed by Augustus⁶ into three provinces⁶, Lusitania, Baetica, and Tarraconensis. The kingdom of Portugal now fills the place of the warlike country⁶ of the Lusitanians; and the loss sustained by the former, on the side of the East, is compensated by an accession of territory towards the North. The confines of Grenada and Andalusia correspond with those of ancient⁶ Baetica. The remainder of Spain⁶ — Gallicia, and the Asturias, Biscay, and Navarre, Leon, and the two Castilles, Murcia, Valencia, Catalonia, and Arragon, — all contributed to form the third and most considerable of the Roman⁶ governments, which, from the name of its capital, was styled the province of Tarragona. Of the native barbarians⁶, the Celtiberians were the most powerful, as the Cantabrians and Asturians proved the most obstinate. Confident in the strength of their mountains, they were the last who submitted to the arms⁶ of Rome⁶, and the first who threw off the yoke of the Arabs.

Ancient Gaul⁴⁰, as it contained the whole country⁴⁰ between the Pyrenees, the Alps, the Rhine, and the Ocean, was of greater extent than modern France. To the dominions of that powerful monarchy, with its recent acquisitions of Alsace and Lorraine, we must add the duchy of Savoy, the cantons of Switzerland, the four electorates of the Rhine, and the territories of Liege, Luxemburg, Hainault, Flanders, and Brabant. When Augustus gave laws to the conquests of his father, he introduced a division of Gaul⁴⁰ equally adapted to the progress of the legions, to the course of the rivers, and to the principal national distinctions, which had comprehended above an hundred independent states. The sea-coast of the Mediterranean, Languedoc, Provence, and Dauphiné, received⁴⁰ their provincial appellation from the colony of Narbonne. The government of Aquitaine was extended from the Pyrenees to the Loire. The country⁴⁰ between the Loire and the Seine was styled the Celtic Gaul⁴⁰, and soon⁴⁰ borrowed a new denomination from the celebrated⁴⁰ colony of Lugdunum, or Lyons. The Belgic lay beyond the Seine, and in more ancient⁴⁰ times had been bounded only by the Rhine; but a little before the age⁴⁰ of Caesar, the Germans, abusing their superiority of valour, had occupied a considerable portion of the Belgic territory. The Roman⁴⁰ conquerors very eagerly embraced so flattering a circumstance, and the Gallic frontier of the Rhine, from Basil to Leyden, received⁴⁰ the pompous names of the Upper and the Lower Germany. Such, under the reign⁴⁰ of the Antonines, were the six provinces of Gaul⁴⁰; the Narbonnese, Aquitaine, the Celtic, or Lyonnese, the Belgic, and the two Germanies.

We have already had occasion to mention the conquest⁹ of Britain, and to fix the boundary of the Roman⁹ province⁹ in this island. It comprehended all England, Wales, and the Lowlands of Scotland, as far⁹ as the Friths of Dumbarton and Edinburgh. Before Britain lost her freedom, the country⁹ was irregularly divided between thirty tribes⁹ of barbarians⁹, of whom the most considerable were the Belgae in the West⁹, the Brigantes in the North⁹, the Silures in South Wales, and the Iceni in Norfolk and Suffolk. As far⁹ as we can either trace or credit the resemblance of manners and language, Spain, Gaul, and Britain were peopled by the same hardy race of savages. Before they yielded to the Roman⁹ arms⁹, they often disputed the field, and often renewed the contest. After their submission they constituted the western division of the European provinces⁹, which extended from the columns of Hercules to the wall of Antoninus, and from the mouth of the Tagus to the sources of the Rhine and Danube⁹.

Before the Roman⁹ conquest⁹, the country⁹ which is now called Lombardy was not considered as a part of Italy⁹. It had been occupied by a powerful colony of Gauls, who, settling themselves along the banks⁹ of the Po, from Piedmont to Romagna, carried their arms⁹ and diffused their name from the Alps to the Apennine. The Ligurians dwelt on the rocky coast⁹, which now forms the republic of Genoa. Venice was yet unborn; but the territories of that state, which lie to the east of the Adige, were inhabited by the Venetians. The middle part of the peninsula, that now composes the duchy of Tuscany and the ecclesiastical state, was the ancient⁹ seat of the Etruscans and Umbrians; to the former of whom Italy⁹ was indebted for the first rudiments of a civilised life. The Tiber rolled at the foot of the seven hills of Rome⁹, and the country⁹ of the Sabines, the Latins, and the Volsci, from that river⁹ to the frontiers of Naples, was the theatre of her infant victories. On that celebrated ground the first consuls deserved triumphs, their successors adorned villas, and their posterity have erected convents. Capua and Campania possessed the immediate territory of Naples; the rest of the kingdom was inhabited by many warlike nations⁹, the Marsi, the Samnites, the Apulians, and the Lucanians; and the sea⁹-coasts had been covered by the flourishing colonies of the Greeks. We may remark, that when Augustus divided Italy⁹ into eleven regions, the little province⁹ of Istria was annexed to that seat of Roman⁹ sovereignty.

The European provinces⁹ of Rome⁹ were protected by the course of the Rhine and the Danube⁹. The latter of those mighty streams, which rises at the distance of only thirty miles⁹ from the former, flows above thirteen hundred miles⁹, for the most part to the south-east, collects the tribute of sixty navigable rivers, and is, at length, through six mouths, received into the Euxine, which appears scarcely equal to such an accession of waters. The provinces⁹ of the Danube⁹ soon⁹ acquired the general appellation of Illyricum, or the Illyrian frontier, and were esteemed the most warlike of the empire⁹; but they deserve to be more particularly considered under the names of Rhaetia, Noricum, Pannonia, Dalmatia, Dacia, Maesia, Thrace, Macedonia, and Greece.

The province of Rhaetia³⁹, which soon extinguished the name of the Vindelicians, extended from the summit of the Alps to the banks of the Danube; from its source, as far as its conflux with the Inn. The greatest part of the flat country³⁹ is subject to the elector of Bavaria³⁹; the city of Augsburg³⁹ is protected by the constitution of the German empire³⁹; the Grisons are safe in their mountains; and the country³⁹ of Tyrol is ranked among the numerous provinces³⁹ of the house of Austria.

The wide extent of territory which is included between the Inn, the Danube, and the Save, — Austria, Styria, Carinthia, Carniola, the Lower Hungary, and Sclavonia, — was known to the ancients under the names of Noricum and Pannonia. In their original state of independence their fierce inhabitants were intimately connected. Under the Roman⁴² government they were frequently united, and they still remain the patrimony of a single family⁴². They now contain the residence of a German prince⁴², who styles himself Emperor⁴² of the Romans, and form the centre, as well as strength, of the Austrian power⁴². It may not be improper to observe, that, if we except Bohemia, Moravia, the northern skirts of Austria, and a part of Hungary, between the Theiss and the Danube, all the other dominions of the house of Austria were comprised within the limits of the Roman⁴² empire.

Dalmatia, to which the name of Illyricum more properly belonged, was a long⁹, but narrow tract, between the Save and the Adriatic. The best part of the sea⁹-coast⁹, which still retains its ancient⁹ appellation, is a province⁹ of the Venetian state, and the seat of the little republic of Ragusa. The inland parts have assumed the Sclavonian names of Croatia and Bosnia; the former obeys an Austrian governor, the latter a Turkish pasha; but the whole country⁹ is still infested by tribes⁹ of barbarians⁹, whose savage independence irregularly marks the doubtful limit of the Christian and Mahometan power.

After the Danube had received the waters of the Theiss and the Save, it acquired, at least among the Greeks, the name of Ister. It formerly divided Maesia and Dacia, the latter of which, as we have already seen, was a conquest of Trajan, and the only province beyond the river. If we inquire into the present state of those countries, we shall find that, on the left hand of the Danube, Temeswar and Transylvania have been annexed, after many revolutions, to the crown of Hungary; whilst the principalities of Moldavia and Walachia acknowledge the supremacy of the Ottoman Porte. On the right hand of the Danube, Maesia, which during the middle ages was broken into the barbarian kingdoms of Servia and Bulgaria, is again united in Turkish slavery.

The appellation of Roumelia, which is still bestowed by the Turks on the extensive countries of Thrace, Macedonia, and Greece, preserves the memory of their ancient⁹ state under the Roman⁹ empire⁹. In the time of the Antonines, the martial regions of Thrace, from the mountains⁹ of Haemus and Rhodope to the Bosphorus and the Hellespont, had assumed the form of a province⁹. Notwithstanding the change of masters and of religion, the new⁹ city⁹ of Rome⁹, founded by Constantine on the banks⁹ of the Bosphorus, has ever since remained the capital⁹ of a great⁹ monarchy. The kingdom of Macedonia, which, under the reign of Alexander, gave laws to Asia⁹, derived more solid advantages from the policy of the two Philips; and, with its dependencies of Epirus and Thessaly, extended from the Aegean to the Ionian sea⁹. When we reflect on the fame of Thebes and Argos, of Sparta and Athens, we can scarcely persuade ourselves that so many immortal republics of ancient⁹ Greece were lost in a single province⁹ of the Roman⁹ empire⁹, which, from the superior influence of the Achaean league, was usually denominated the province⁹ of Achaia.

Such was the state of Europe⁹ under the Roman⁹ emperors. The provinces⁹ of Asia⁹, without excepting the transient conquests of Trajan, are all comprehended within the limits of the Turkish power. But instead of following the arbitrary divisions of despotism and ignorance, it will be safer for us, as well as more agreeable, to observe the indelible characters of nature. The name of Asia⁹ Minor is attributed, with some propriety, to the peninsula which, confined between the Euxine and the Mediterranean, advances from the Euphrates towards Europe⁹. The most extensive and flourishing district westward of Mount Taurus and the river⁹ Halys, was dignified by the Romans⁹ with the exclusive title of Asia⁹. The jurisdiction of that province⁹ extended over the ancient⁹ monarchies of Troy, Lydia, and Phrygia, the maritime countries of the Pamphylians, Lycians, and Carians, and the Grecian colonies of Ionia, which equalled in arts, though not in arms⁹, the glory of their parent. The kingdoms of Bithynia and Pontus possessed the northern side of the peninsula from Constantinople to Trebizond. On the opposite side the province⁹ of Cilicia was terminated by the mountains⁹ of Syria: the inland country⁹, separated from the Roman⁹ Asia⁹ by the river⁹ Halys, and from Armenia by the Euphrates, had once formed the independent kingdom of Cappadocia. In this place we may observe that the northern shores of the Euxine, beyond Trebizond in Asia⁹ and beyond the Danube⁹ in Europe⁹, acknowledged the sovereignty of the emperors, and received at their hands either tributary princes or Roman⁹ garrisons. Budzak, Crim Tartary, Circassia, and Mingrelia are the modern appellations of those savage countries.

Under the successors of Alexander, Syria was the seat of the Seleucidae, who reigned over Upper Asia, till the successful revolt of the Parthians confined their dominions between the Euphrates and the Mediterranean. When Syria became subject to the Romans⁵, it formed the eastern frontier⁵ of their empire⁵; nor did that province, in its utmost latitude, know any other bounds than the mountains of Cappadocia to the north, and, towards the south, the confines of Egypt and the Red Sea. Phoenicia and Palestine were sometimes annexed to, and sometimes separated from, the jurisdiction of Syria. The former of these was a narrow and rocky coast; the latter was a territory scarcely superior to Wales, either in fertility or extent. Yet Phoenicia and Palestine will for ever live in the memory of mankind; since America, as well as Europe, has received letters from the one, and religion from the other. A sandy desert, alike destitute of wood and water, skirts along the doubtful confine of Syria, from the Euphrates to the Red Sea. The wandering life of the Arabs was inseparably connected with their independence, and wherever, on some spots less barren than the rest, they ventured to form any settled habitations, they soon⁵ became subjects to the Roman⁵ empire⁵.

The geographers of antiquity have frequently hesitated to what portion of the globe they should ascribe Egypt²⁴. By its situation that celebrated kingdom is included within the immense peninsula of Africa²⁴; but it is accessible only on the side of Asia²⁴, whose revolutions, in almost every period of history, Egypt²⁴ has humbly obeyed. A Roman²⁴ prefect was seated on the splendid throne²⁴ of the Ptolemies; and the iron sceptre of the Mamelukes is now in the hands of a Turkish²⁴ pasha. The Nile²⁴ flows down the country, above five hundred miles from the tropic of Cancer to the Mediterranean, and marks, on either side, the extent of fertility by the measure of its inundations. Cyrene, situated towards the west and along the sea²⁴-coast, was first a Greek²⁴ colony, afterwards a province of Egypt²⁴, and is now lost in the desert of Barca.

From Cyrene to the ocean⁹, the coast⁹ of Africa⁹ extends above fifteen hundred miles⁹; yet so closely is it pressed between the Mediterranean and the Sahara, or sandy desert, that its breadth seldom exceeds fourscore or an hundred miles⁹. The eastern division was considered by the Romans⁹ as the more peculiar and proper province⁹ of Africa⁹. Till the arrival of the Phoenician colonies, that fertile country⁹ was inhabited by the Libyans, the most savage of mankind. Under the immediate jurisdiction of Carthage it became the centre of commerce and empire⁹; but the republic of Carthage is now degenerated into the feeble and disorderly states of Tripoli and Tunis. The military government of Algiers oppresses the wide extent of Numidia, as it was once united under Massinissa and Jugurtha: but in the time of Augustus the limits of Numidia were contracted; and at least two-thirds of the country⁹ acquiesced in the name of Mauritania, with the epithet of Caesariensis. The genuine Mauritania, or country⁹ of the Moors, which, from the ancient⁹ city⁹ of Tingi, or Tangier, was distinguished by the appellation of Tingitana, is represented by the modern kingdom of Fez. Sallè, on the Ocean⁹, so infamous at present for its piratical depredations, was noticed by the Romans⁹, as the extreme object of their power, and almost of their geography. A city⁹ of their foundation may still be discovered near Mequinez, the residence of the barbarian whom we condescend to style the Emperor of Morocco; but it does not appear that his more southern dominions, Morocco itself, and Segelmessa, were ever comprehended within the Roman⁹ province⁹. The western parts of Africa⁹ are intersected by the branches of Mount Atlas, a name so idly celebrated by the fancy of poets; but which is now diffused over the immense ocean⁹ that rolls between the ancient⁹ and the new⁹ continent.

Having now finished the circuit of the Roman empire, we may observe that Africa is divided from Spain⁴⁹ by a narrow strait of about twelve miles, through which the Atlantic flows into the Mediterranean. The columns of Hercules, so famous among the ancients, were two mountains which seemed to have been torn asunder by some convulsion of the elements; and at the foot of the European mountain the fortress of Gibraltar is now seated. The whole extent of the Mediterranean Sea⁴⁹, its coasts and its islands, were comprised within the Roman dominion. Of the larger islands, the two Baleares, which derive their names of Majorca and Minorca from their respective size, are subject at present, the former to Spain⁴⁹, the latter to Great⁴⁹ Britain. It is easier to deplore the fate than to describe the actual condition of Corsica. Two Italian sovereigns assume a regal title from Sardinia and Sicily. Crete, or Candia, with Cyprus, and most of the smaller islands of Greece and Asia, have been subdued by the Turkish arms⁴⁹; whilst the little rock of Malta defies their power, and has emerged, under the government of its military⁴⁹ Order, into fame and opulence.

This long⁹ enumeration of provinces⁹, whose broken fragments have formed so many powerful kingdoms, might almost induce us to forgive the vanity or ignorance of the ancients. Dazzled with the extensive sway, the irresistible strength, and the real or affected moderation of the emperors, they permitted themselves to despise, and sometimes to forget, the outlying countries which had been left in the enjoyment of a barbarous independence; and they gradually assumed the licence of confounding the Roman⁹ monarchy with the globe of the earth. But the temper, as well as knowledge, of a modern historian require a more sober and accurate language. He may impress a juster image of the greatness of Rome⁹ by observing that the empire⁹ was above two thousand⁹ miles⁹ in breadth, from the wall of Antoninus and the northern limits of Dacia to Mount Atlas and the tropic of Cancer; that it extended in length more than three thousand⁹ miles⁹, from the Western Ocean⁹ to the Euphrates; that it was situated in the finest part of the Temperate Zone, between the twenty-fourth and fifty-sixth degrees of northern latitude; and that it was supposed to contain above sixteen hundred thousand⁹ square miles⁹, for the most part of fertile and well-cultivated land.

It is not alone by the rapidity or extent of conquest⁹ that we should estimate the greatness of Rome⁹. The sovereign of the Russian deserts commands a larger portion of the globe. In the seventh summer after his passage of the Hellespont, Alexander erected the Macedonian trophies on the banks⁹ of the Hyphasis. Within less than a century, the irresistible Zingis, and the Mogul princes of his race, spread their cruel devastations and transient empire⁹ from the sea⁹ of China to the confines of Egypt and Germany. But the firm edifice of Roman⁹ power was raised and preserved by the wisdom of ages. The obedient provinces⁹ of Trajan and the Antonines were united by laws and adorned by arts. They might occasionally suffer from the partial abuse of delegated authority; but the general principle of government was wise, simple, and beneficent. They enjoyed the religion of their ancestors, whilst in civil honours and advantages they were exalted, by just degrees, to an equality with their conquerors.

I. The policy¹ of the emperors¹ and the senate¹, as far as it concerned religion¹, was happily seconded by the reflections of the enlightened, and by the habits of the superstitious, part of their subjects¹. The various modes of worship which prevailed in the Roman¹ world were all considered by the people¹ as equally true; by the philosopher as equally false; and by the magistrate¹ as equally useful. And thus toleration produced not only mutual indulgence, but even religious concord.

The superstition⁸ of the people was not embittered by any mixture of theological rancour; nor was it confined by the chains of any speculative system. The devout polytheist, though fondly attached to his national rites, admitted with implicit faith⁸ the different religions of the earth. Fear, gratitude, and curiosity, a dream or an omen, a singular disorder, or a distant journey, perpetually disposed him to multiply the articles of his belief, and to enlarge the list of his protectors. The thin texture of the pagan⁸ mythology was interwoven with various⁸ but not discordant materials. As soon as it was allowed that sages and heroes, who had lived or who had died for the benefit of their country, were exalted to a state of power and immortality, it was universally confessed that they deserved, if not the adoration, at least the reverence of all mankind⁸. The deities of a thousand groves and a thousand streams possessed in peace their local and respective influence; nor could the Roman who deprecated the wrath of the Tiber deride the Egyptian who presented his offering to the beneficent genius of the Nile. The visible powers of Nature⁸, the planets, and the elements, were the same throughout the universe. The invisible governors of the moral world⁸ were inevitably cast in a similar mould of fiction and allegory. Every virtue⁸, and even vice, acquired its divine⁸ representative; every art and profession its patron, whose attributes in the most distant ages and countries were uniformly derived from the character⁸ of their peculiar votaries. A republic of gods⁸ of such opposite tempers and interests required, in every system, the moderating hand of a supreme magistrate, who, by the progress of knowledge and of flattery, was gradually invested with the sublime perfections of an Eternal Parent and an Omnipotent Monarch. Such was the mild spirit of antiquity, that the nations were less attentive to the difference than to the resemblance of their religious⁸ worship⁸. The Greek, the Roman, and the Barbarian, as they met before their respective altars, easily persuaded themselves that, under various⁸ names and with various⁸ ceremonies, they adored the same deities. The elegant mythology of Homer gave a beautiful and almost a regular form to the polytheism of the ancient⁸ world⁸.

The philosophers of Greece deduced their morals from the nature⁸ of man⁸ rather than from that of God⁸. They meditated, however, on the Divine⁸ Nature⁸ as a very curious and important speculation, and in the profound inquiry they displayed the strength and weakness of the human⁸ understanding. Of the four most celebrated schools, the Stoics and the Platonists endeavoured to reconcile the jarring interests of reason⁸ and piety. They have left us the most sublime proofs of the existence and perfections of the first cause; but, as it was impossible for them to conceive the creation of matter, the workman in the Stoic philosophy was not sufficiently distinguished from the work; whilst, on the contrary, the spiritual God⁸ of Plato and his disciples resembled an idea rather than a substance. The opinions of the Academics and Epicureans were of a less religious⁸ cast; but, whilst the modest science of the former induced them to doubt, the positive ignorance of the latter urged them to deny, the providence of a Supreme Ruler. The spirit of inquiry, prompted by emulation and supported by freedom, had divided the public⁸ teachers of philosophy into a variety of contending sects; but the ingenuous youth, who from every part resorted to Athens and the other seats of learning in the Roman empire⁸, were alike instructed in every school to reject and to despise the religion⁸ of the multitude. How, indeed, was it possible that a philosopher⁸ should accept as divine⁸ truths the idle tales of the poets, and the incoherent traditions of antiquity; or that he should adore, as gods⁸, those imperfect beings whom he must have despised, as men! Against such unworthy adversaries, Cicero condescended to employ the arms of reason⁸ and eloquence; but the satire of Lucian was a much more adequate as well as more efficacious weapon. We may be well assured that a writer conversant with the world⁸ would never have ventured to expose the gods⁸ of his country to public⁸ ridicule, had they not already been the objects of secret contempt among the polished and enlightened orders of society⁸.

Notwithstanding the fashionable irreligion which prevailed in the age⁸ of the Antonines, both the interests of the priests and the credulity of the people were sufficiently respected. In their writings and conversation the philosophers of antiquity asserted the independent dignity of reason⁸; but they resigned their actions to the commands of law and of custom. Viewing with a smile of pity and indulgence the various⁸ errors of the vulgar, they diligently practised the ceremonies of their fathers, devoutly frequented the temples⁸ of the gods⁸; and, sometimes condescending to act a part on the theatre of superstition⁸, they concealed the sentiments of an Atheist under the sacerdotal robes. Reasoners of such a temper were scarcely inclined to wrangle about their respective modes of faith⁸ or of worship⁸. It was indifferent to them what shape the folly of the multitude might choose to assume; and they approached, with the same inward contempt and the same external reverence, the altars of the Libyan, the Olympian, or the Capitoline Jupiter.

It is not easy to conceive from what motives a spirit of persecution could introduce itself into the Roman²⁹ councils. The magistrates could not be actuated by a blind though honest bigotry, since the magistrates were themselves philosophers; and the schools of Athens had given laws to the senate. They could not be impelled by ambition or avarice, as the temporal and ecclesiastical powers were united in the same hands. The pontiffs were chosen among the most illustrious of the senators; and the office of Supreme Pontiff was constantly exercised by the emperors²⁹ themselves. They knew and valued the advantages of religion, as it is connected with civil government. They encouraged the public²⁹ festivals which humanize the manners²⁹ of the people. They managed the arts of divination as a convenient instrument of policy; and they respected, as the firmest bond of society, the useful²⁹ persuasion that, either in this or in a future life²⁹, the crime of perjury is most assuredly punished by the avenging gods. But, whilst²⁹ they acknowledged the general advantages of religion, they were convinced that the various²⁹ modes of worship contributed alike to the same salutary purposes; and that, in every country²⁹, the form of superstition which had received²⁹ the sanction of time and experience was the best adapted²⁹ to the climate and to its inhabitants. Avarice and taste very frequently despoiled the vanquished nations of the elegant statues of their gods and the rich²⁹ ornaments of their temples; but, in the exercise of the religion which they derived from their ancestors, they uniformly experienced the indulgence, and even protection, of the Roman²⁹ conquerors. The province²⁹ of Gaul seems, and indeed only seems, an exception to this universal toleration. Under the specious pretext of abolishing human sacrifices, the emperors²⁹ Tiberius and Claudius suppressed the dangerous power²⁹ of the Druids; but the priests themselves, their gods, and their altars, subsisted in peaceful obscurity till the final destruction of Paganism.

Rome, the capital⁴⁰ of a great⁴⁰ monarchy, was incessantly filled with subjects⁴⁰ and strangers from every part of the world, who all introduced and enjoyed the favourite superstitions of their native country⁴⁰. Every city⁴⁰ in the empire⁴⁰ was justified in maintaining the purity of its ancient⁴⁰ ceremonies; and the Roman⁴⁰ senate, using the common privilege, sometimes interposed to check this inundation of foreign rites. The Egyptian superstition, of all the most contemptible and abject, was frequently prohibited; the temples of Serapis and Isis demolished, and their worshippers banished from Rome⁴⁰ and Italy. But the zeal⁴⁰ of fanaticism prevailed over the cold and feeble efforts of policy. The exiles returned, the proselytes multiplied, the temples were restored with increasing splendour⁴⁰, and Isis and Serapis at length assumed their place among the Roman⁴⁰ deities. Nor was this indulgence a departure from the old maxims of government. In the purest ages of the commonwealth, Cybele and Aesculapius had been invited by solemn embassies; and it was customary to tempt the protectors of besieged cities by the promise of more distinguished honours than they possessed in their native country⁴⁰. Rome⁴⁰ gradually became the common temple of her subjects⁴⁰; and the freedom of the city⁴⁰ was bestowed on all the gods of mankind.

II. The narrow policy of preserving without any foreign mixture the pure blood of the ancient citizens, had checked the fortune, and hastened the ruin, of Athens and Sparta. The aspiring genius of Rome²⁷ sacrificed vanity to ambition, and deemed it more prudent, as well as honourable, to adopt virtue²⁷ and merit for her own wheresoever they were found, among slaves or strangers, enemies or barbarians²⁷. During the most flourishing era of the Athenian commonwealth the number of citizens gradually decreased from about thirty to twenty-one thousand²⁷. If, on the contrary, we study the growth of the Roman²⁷ republic²⁷, we may discover that, notwithstanding the incessant demands of wars and colonies, the citizens, who, in the first census of Servius Tullius, amounted to no more than eighty-three thousand²⁷, were multiplied, before the commencement of the social war²⁷, to the number of four hundred and sixty-three thousand²⁷ men able to bear arms²⁷ in the service²⁷ of their country²⁷. When the allies of Rome²⁷ claimed an equal share of honours and privileges, the senate indeed preferred the chance of arms²⁷ to an ignominous concession. The Samnites and the Lucanians paid the severe penalty of their rashness; but the rest of the Italian states, as they successively returned to their duty, were admitted into the bosom of the republic²⁷, and soon²⁷ contributed to the ruin of public²⁷ freedom. Under a democratical government the citizens exercise the powers of sovereignty; and those powers will be first abused, and afterwards lost, if they are committed to an unwieldy multitude²⁷. But, when the popular assemblies had been suppressed by the administration of the emperors, the conquerors were distinguished from the vanquished nations only as the first and most honourable order of subjects; and their increase²⁷, however rapid, was no longer exposed to the same dangers. Yet the wisest princes who adopted the maxims of Augustus guarded with the strictest care the dignity of the Roman²⁷ name, and diffused the freedom of the city²⁷ with a prudent liberality.

Till the privileges of Romans¹ had been progressively extended to all the inhabitants of the empire¹, an important distinction was preserved between Italy¹ and the provinces¹. The former was esteemed the centre of public¹ unity, and the firm basis of the constitution. Italy¹ claimed the birth, or at least the residence, of the emperors¹ and the senate¹. The estates of the Italians were exempt from taxes, their persons from the arbitrary jurisdiction¹ of governors. Their municipal corporations, formed after the perfect model of the capital, were intrusted, under the immediate eye of the supreme power¹, with the execution of the laws¹. From the foot of the Alps to the extremity of Calabria, all the natives of Italy¹ were born citizens of Rome¹. Their partial distinctions were obliterated, and they insensibly coalesced into one great nation, united by language, manners, and civil¹ institutions, and equal to the weight of a powerful empire¹. The republic¹ gloried in her generous policy¹, and was frequently rewarded by the merit and services of her adopted sons. Had she always confined the distinction of Romans¹ to the ancient¹ families within the walls of the city¹, that immortal name would have been deprived of some of its noblest ornaments. Virgil was a native of Mantua; Horace was inclined to doubt whether he should call himself an Apulian or a Lucanian; it was in Padua that an historian was found worthy to record the majestic series of Roman¹ victories. The patriot family of the Catos emerged from Tusculum; and the little town of Arpinum claimed the double honour of producing Marius and Cicero, the former of whom deserved, after Romulus and Camillus, to be styled the Third Founder of Rome¹; and the latter, after saving his country from the designs of Catiline, enabled her to contend with Athens for the palm of eloquence.

The provinces¹ of the empire¹ (as they have been described in the preceding chapter) were destitute of any public¹ force or constitutional freedom¹. In Etruria, in Greece, and in Gaul, it was the first care of the senate¹ to dissolve those dangerous confederacies which taught mankind that, as the Roman¹ arms prevailed by division, they might be resisted by union. Those princes¹ whom the ostentation of gratitude or generosity permitted for a while to hold a precarious sceptre were dismissed from their thrones, as soon as they had performed their appointed task of fashioning to the yoke the vanquished nations. The free states and cities which had embraced the cause of Rome¹ were rewarded with a nominal alliance, and insensibly sunk into real servitude. The public¹ authority¹ was everywhere exercised by the ministers of the senate¹ and of the emperors¹, and that authority¹ was absolute and without control. But the same salutary maxims of government¹, which had secured the peace¹ and obedience of Italy¹, were extended to the most distant conquests. A nation of Romans¹ was gradually formed in the provinces¹, by the double expedient of introducing colonies, and of admitting the most faithful and deserving of the provincials to the freedom¹ of Rome¹.

Wheresoever the Roman¹ conquers, he inhabits, is a very just observation of Seneca, confirmed by history and experience. The natives of Italy¹, allured by pleasure or by interest, hastened to enjoy the advantages of victory; and we may remark that, about forty years¹ after the reduction of Asia, eighty thousand Romans¹ were massacred in one day by the cruel orders of Mithridates. These voluntary exiles were engaged for the most part in the occupations of commerce, agriculture, and the farm of the revenue. But after the legions were rendered permanent by the emperors¹, the provinces¹ were peopled by a race of soldiers; and the veterans, whether they received the reward of their service in land or in money, usually settled with their families in the country where they had honourably spent their youth. Throughout the empire¹, but more particularly in the western parts, the most fertile districts and the most convenient situations were reserved for the establishment of colonies; some of which were of a civil¹ and others of a military nature. In their manners and internal policy¹, the colonies formed a perfect representation of their great parent; and [as] they were soon endeared to the natives by the ties of friendship and alliance, they effectually diffused a reverence for the Roman¹ name, and a desire which was seldom disappointed of sharing, in due time, its honours¹ and advantages. The municipal cities insensibly equalled the rank and splendour of the colonies; and in the reign¹ of Hadrian it was disputed which was the preferable condition, of those societies which had issued from, or those which had been received into, the bosom of Rome¹. The right of Latium, as it was called, conferred on the cities to which it had been granted a more partial favour. The magistrates¹ only, at the expiration of their office¹, assumed¹ the quality of Roman¹ citizens; but as those offices were annual, in a few years¹ they circulated round the principal families. Those of the provincials who were permitted to bear arms in the legions; those who exercised any civil¹ employment; all, in a word, who performed any public¹ service, or displayed any personal talents, were rewarded with a present, whose value was continually diminished by the increasing liberality of the emperors¹. Yet even in the age of the Antonines, when the freedom¹ of the city¹ had been bestowed on the greater number of their subjects¹, it was still accompanied with very solid advantages. The bulk of the people¹ acquired, with that title¹, the benefit of the Roman¹ laws¹, particularly in the interesting articles of marriage, testaments, and inheritances; and the road of fortune was open to those whose pretensions were seconded by favour or merit. The grandsons of the Gauls who had besieged Julius Caesar in Alesia commanded legions, governed provinces¹, and were admitted into the senate¹ of Rome¹. Their ambition, instead of disturbing the tranquillity of the state¹, was intimately connected with its safety and greatness.

So sensible were the Romans of the influence of language⁰ over national manners⁰, that it was their most serious care to extend, with the progress of their arms, the use of the Latin⁰ tongue⁰. The ancient⁰ dialects of Italy⁰, the Sabine, the Etruscan, and the Venetian, sunk into oblivion; but in the provinces, the east⁰ was less docile than the west to the voice of its victorious preceptors. This obvious difference marked the two portions of the empire⁰ with a distinction of colours, which, though it was in some degree concealed during the meridian splendour of prosperity, became gradually more visible as the shades of night descended upon the Roman⁰ world⁰. The western⁰ countries were civilized by the same hands which subdued them. As soon as the barbarians⁰ were reconciled to obedience, their minds were opened to any new impressions of knowledge⁰ and politeness. The language⁰ of Virgil and Cicero, though with some inevitable mixture of corruption, was so universally adopted in Africa, Spain, Gaul⁰, Britain, and Pannonia, that the faint traces of the Punic or Celtic idioms were preserved only in the mountains, or among the peasants. Education and study⁰ insensibly inspired the natives of those countries with the sentiments of Romans; and Italy⁰ gave fashions, as well as laws, to her Latin⁰ provincials. They solicited with more ardour, and obtained with more facility, the freedom and honours of the state⁰; supported the national dignity in letters and in arms; and, at length, in the person of Trajan, produced an emperor whom the Scipios would not have disowned for their countryman. The situation of the Greeks⁰ was very different from that of the barbarians⁰. The former had been long⁰ since civilized and corrupted. They had too much taste to relinquish their language⁰, and too much vanity to adopt any foreign institutions. Still preserving the prejudices, after they had lost the virtues, of their ancestors, they affected to despise the unpolished manners⁰ of the Roman⁰ conquerors, whilst they were compelled to respect their superior wisdom and power. Nor was the influence of the Grecian language⁰ and sentiments confined to the narrow limits of that once celebrated⁰ country⁰. Their empire⁰, by the progress of colonies and conquest, had been diffused from the Hadriatic to the Euphrates and the Nile. Asia was covered with Greek⁰ cities, and the long⁰ reign of the Macedonian kings had introduced a silent revolution into Syria and Egypt. In their pompous courts those princes⁰ united the elegance of Athens with the luxury of the East⁰, and the example of the court was imitated, at an humble distance, by the higher ranks of their subjects. Such was the general division of the Roman⁰ empire⁰ into the Latin⁰ and Greek⁰ languages. To these we may add a third distinction for the body of the natives in Syria, and especially in Egypt. The use of their ancient⁰ dialects, by secluding them from the commerce of mankind, checked the improvement of those barbarians⁰. The slothful effeminacy of the former exposed them to the contempt, the sullen ferociousness of the latter excited the aversion, of the conquerors. Those nations had submitted to the Roman⁰ power, but they seldom desired or deserved the freedom of the city; and it was remarked that more than two hundred and thirty years⁰ elapsed after the ruin of the Ptolemies, before an Egyptian was admitted into the senate of Rome⁰.

It is a just though trite observation, that victorious Rome⁰ was herself subdued by the arts⁰ of Greece. Those immortal writers who still command the admiration of modern Europe⁰ soon became the favourite object of study⁰ and imitation in Italy⁰ and the western⁰ provinces. But the elegant amusements of the Romans were not suffered to interfere with their sound maxims of policy. Whilst they acknowledged the charms of the Greek⁰, they asserted the dignity of the Latin⁰, tongue⁰, and the exclusive use of the latter was inflexibly maintained in the administration of civil as well as military government. The two languages exercised at the same time their separate jurisdiction throughout the empire⁰: the former, as the natural idiom⁰ of science⁰; the latter, as the legal dialect⁰ of public transactions. Those who united letters with business were equally conversant with both; and it was almost impossible, in any province, to find a Roman⁰ subject, of a liberal education, who was at once a stranger to the Greek⁰ and to the Latin⁰ language⁰.

It was by such institutions that the nations of the empire⁴⁷ insensibly melted away into the Roman⁴⁷ name and people⁴⁷. But there still remained, in the centre of every province and of every family, an unhappy condition of men who endured the weight, without sharing the benefits, of society. In the free states of antiquity the domestic slaves were exposed to the wanton rigour of despotism. The perfect settlement of the Roman⁴⁷ empire⁴⁷ was preceded by ages of violence and rapine. The slaves consisted, for the most part, of barbarian captives, taken in thousands by the chance of war⁴⁷, purchased at a vile price, accustomed to a life⁴⁷ of independence, and impatient to break and to revenge their fetters. Against such internal enemies, whose desperate insurrections had more than once reduced the republic to the brink of destruction, the most severe regulations and the most cruel treatment seemed almost justified by the great law of self-preservation. But when the principal nations of Europe, Asia, and Africa were united under the laws of one sovereign⁴⁷, the source of foreign supplies flowed with much less abundance, and the Romans were reduced to the milder but more tedious method of propagation. In their numerous families, and particularly in their country estates, they encouraged the marriage of their slaves. The sentiments of nature, the habits of education, and the possession of a dependent species of property, contributed to alleviate the hardships of servitude. The existence of a slave became an object of greater value, and though his happiness still depended on the temper and circumstances of the master⁴⁷, the humanity of the latter, instead of being restrained by fear, was encouraged by the sense of his own interest. The progress of manners was accelerated by the virtue or policy of the emperors; and by the edicts of Hadrian and the Antonines the protection of the laws was extended to the most abject part of mankind. The jurisdiction of life⁴⁷ and death⁴⁷ over the slaves, a power⁴⁷ long⁴⁷ exercised and often abused, was taken out of private⁴⁷ hands, and reserved to the magistrates alone. The subterraneous prisons were abolished; and, upon a just complaint of intolerable treatment, the injured slave obtained either his deliverance or a less cruel master⁴⁷.

Hope, the best comfort of our imperfect condition, was not denied to the Roman³⁷ slave; and, if he had any opportunity of making himself either useful or agreeable, he might very naturally expect that the diligence and fidelity of a few years would be rewarded with the inestimable gift of freedom³⁷. The benevolence of the master was so frequently prompted by the meaner suggestions of vanity and avarice, that the laws³⁷ found it more necessary to restrain than to encourage a profuse and undistinguishing liberality, which might degenerate into a very dangerous abuse. It was a maxim of ancient³⁷ jurisprudence, that a slave had not any country³⁷ of his own; he acquired with his liberty³⁷ an admission into the political society of which his patron was a member. The consequences of this maxim would have prostituted the privileges of the Roman³⁷ city to a mean and promiscuous multitude. Some seasonable exceptions were therefore provided; and the honourable distinction³⁷ was confined to such slaves³⁷ only as, for just causes, and with the approbation of the magistrate, should receive a solemn and legal manumission. Even these chosen freedmen obtained no more than the private³⁷ rights of citizens, and were rigorously excluded from civil or military honours. Whatever might be the merit or fortune of their sons, they likewise were esteemed unworthy of a seat in the senate; nor were the traces of a servile³⁷ origin allowed to be completely obliterated till the third or fourth generation. Without destroying the distinction³⁷ of ranks, a distant prospect of freedom³⁷ and honours was presented, even to those whom pride and prejudice almost disdained to number among the human³⁷ species.

It was once proposed to discriminate the slaves² by a peculiar habit, but it was justly apprehended that there might be some danger in acquainting them with their own numbers². Without interpreting, in their utmost strictness, the liberal² appellations of legions and myriads, we may venture to pronounce that the proportion of slaves², who were valued as property, was more considerable than that of servants, who can be computed only as an expense. The youths of a promising genius were instructed in the arts² and sciences, and their price was ascertained by the degree of their skill and talents. Almost every profession, either liberal² or mechanical, might be found in the household of an opulent senator. The ministers of pomp and sensuality were multiplied beyond the conception of modern luxury. It was more for the interest of the merchant or manufacturer to purchase than to hire his workmen; and in the country slaves² were employed as the cheapest and most laborious instruments of agriculture. To confirm the general² observation, and to display the multitude of slaves², we might allege a variety of particular instances. It was discovered, on a very melancholy occasion, that four hundred slaves² were maintained in a single palace of Rome. The same number of four hundred belonged to an estate, which an African widow, of a very private² condition, resigned to her son, whilst she reserved for herself a much larger share of her property. A freedman, under the reign² of Augustus, though his fortune² had suffered great² losses in the civil wars, left behind him three thousand² six hundred yoke of oxen, two hundred and fifty thousand² head of smaller cattle, and, what was almost included in the description of cattle, four thousand² one hundred and sixteen slaves².

The number of subjects¹⁷ who acknowledged the laws of Rome, of citizens, of provincials, and of slaves, cannot now be fixed with such a degree of accuracy as the importance of the object would deserve. We are informed that, when the emperor Claudius exercised the office of censor, he took an account of six millions nine hundred and forty-five thousand¹⁷ Roman¹⁷ citizens, who, with the proportion of women and children, must have amounted to about twenty millions of souls. The multitude of subjects¹⁷ of an inferior rank was uncertain and fluctuating. But, after weighing with attention every circumstance which could influence the balance, it seems probable that there existed, in the time¹⁷ of Claudius, about twice as many provincials as there were citizens, of either sex and of every age; and that the slaves were at least equal in number to the free inhabitants¹⁷ of the Roman¹⁷ world. The total amount of this imperfect calculation would rise to about one hundred and twenty millions of persons: a degree of population which possibly exceeds that of modern Europe, and forms the most numerous society that has ever been united under the same system of government.

Domestic peace and union were the natural consequences of the moderate and comprehensive policy embraced by the Romans. If we turn our eyes towards the monarchies of Asia⁴³, we shall⁴³ behold despotism in the centre and weakness in the extremities; the collection of the revenue, or the administration of justice, enforced by the presence of an army; hostile barbarians, established in the heart of the country⁴³, hereditary satraps usurping the dominion of the provinces⁴³ and subjects, inclined to rebellion, though incapable of freedom. But the obedience of the Roman⁴³ world was uniform, voluntary, and permanent. The vanquished nations, blended into one great⁴³ people⁴³, resigned the hope, nay even the wish, of resuming their independence, and scarcely considered their own existence as distinct from the existence of Rome. The established authority of the emperors pervaded without an effort the wide extent of their dominions, and was exercised with the same facility on the banks of the Thames, or of the Nile, as on those of the Tiber. The legions were destined to serve against the public⁴³ enemy, and the civil magistrate seldom required the aid of a military force. In this state of general⁴³ security, the leisure as well as opulence both of the prince and people⁴³ were devoted to improve and to adorn the Roman⁴³ empire⁴³.

Among the innumerable monuments³² of architecture³² constructed by the Romans³², how many have escaped the notice of history, how few have resisted the ravages of time³² and barbarism! And yet even the majestic ruins³² that are still scattered over Italy and the provinces would be sufficient to prove that those countries were once the seat of a polite and powerful empire³². Their greatness³² alone, or their beauty, might deserve our attention; but they are rendered more interesting by two important circumstances, which connect the agreeable history of the arts with the more useful history of human manners. Many of those works³² were erected³² at private³² expense, and almost all were intended for public³² benefit.

It is natural to suppose that the greatest number, as well as the most considerable of the Roman¹⁹ edifices, were raised by the emperors, who possessed so unbounded a command both of men and money. Augustus was accustomed to boast that he had found his capital of brick, and that he had left it of marble. The strict economy of Vespasian was the source of his magnificence. The works of Trajan bear the stamp of his genius. The public¹⁹ monuments with which Hadrian adorned every province¹⁹ of the empire¹⁹ were executed not only by his orders, but under his immediate inspection. He was himself an artist; and he loved the arts, as they conduced to the glory of the monarch¹⁹. They were encouraged by the Antonines, as they contributed to the happiness of the people¹⁹. But if the emperors were the first, they were not the only architects of their dominions. Their example¹⁹ was universally imitated by their principal subjects, who were not afraid of declaring that they had spirit¹⁹ to conceive, and wealth to accomplish, the noblest undertakings. Scarcely had the proud structure of the Coliseum been dedicated at Rome¹⁹, before the edifices of a smaller scale indeed, but of the same design and materials, were erected for the use, and at the expense, of the cities of Capua and Verona. The inscription of the stupendous bridge of Alcantara attests that it was thrown over the Tagus by the contribution of a few Lusitanian communities. When Pliny was intrusted with the government of Bithynia and Pontus¹⁹, provinces¹⁹ by no means the richest or most considerable of the empire¹⁹, he found the cities within his jurisdiction striving with each other in every useful and ornamental work that might deserve the curiosity of strangers or the gratitude of their citizens. It was the duty of the Proconsul to supply their deficiencies, to direct their taste, and sometimes to moderate their emulation. The opulent senators of Rome¹⁹ and the provinces¹⁹ esteemed it an honour, and almost an obligation, to adorn the splendour of their age¹⁹ and country¹⁹; and the influence of fashion very frequently supplied the want of taste or generosity. Among a crowd of these private¹⁹ benefactors, we may select Herodes Atticus, an Athenian citizen, who lived in the age¹⁹ of the Antonines. Whatever might be the motive of his conduct, his magnificence would have been worthy of the greatest kings.

The family of Herod, at least after it had been favoured by fortune, was lineally descended from Cimon and Miltiades, Theseus and Cecrops, Aeacus and Jupiter. But the posterity of so many gods and heroes was fallen into the most abject state. His grandfather had suffered by the hands of justice⁴⁷, and Julius Atticus, his father⁴⁷, must have ended his life⁴⁷ in poverty and contempt, had he not discovered an immense treasure buried under an old house, the last remains of his patrimony. According to the rigour of law, the emperor⁴⁷ might have asserted his claim; and the prudent Atticus prevented, by a frank confession, the officiousness of informers. But the equitable Nerva, who then filled the throne⁴⁷, refused to accept any part of it, and commanded him to use, without scruple, the present of fortune. The cautious Athenian still insisted that the treasure was too considerable for a subject, and that he knew not how to use it. Abuse it then, replied the monarch, with a good-natured peevishness; for it is your own. Many will be of opinion that Atticus literally obeyed the emperor⁴⁷'s last instructions, since he expended the greatest part of his fortune, which was much increased by an advantageous marriage, in the service of the Public⁴⁷. He had obtained for his son⁴⁷ Herod the prefecture of the free cities of Asia; and the young magistrate, observing that the town of Troas was indifferently supplied with water, obtained from the munificence of Hadrian three hundred myriads of drachms (about a hundred thousand pounds) for the construction of a new aqueduct. But in the execution of the work the charge amounted to more than double the estimate, and the officers of the revenue began to murmur, till the generous Atticus silenced their complaints by requesting that he might be permitted to take upon himself the whole additional expense.

The ablest preceptors of Greece and Asia⁴³ had been invited by liberal rewards to direct the education of young Herod. Their pupil soon became a celebrated orator in the useless rhetoric of that age⁴³, which, confining itself to the schools, disdained to visit either the Forum or the Senate. He was honoured with the consulship at Rome; but the greatest part of his life was spent in a philosophic retirement at Athens, and his adjacent villas; perpetually surrounded by sophists, who acknowledged, without reluctance, the superiority of a rich and generous rival. The monuments of his genius have perished; some remains still preserve the fame of his taste and munificence: modern travellers have measured the remains of the stadium which he constructed at Athens. It was six hundred feet in length, built entirely of white marble, capable of admitting the whole body of the people⁴³, and finished in four years, whilst Herod was president of the Athenian games. To the memory of his wife Regilla he dedicated a theatre, scarcely to be paralleled in the empire⁴³: no wood except cedar very curiously carved, was employed in any part of the building. The Odeum, designed by Pericles for musical performances and the rehearsal of new tragedies, had been a trophy of the victory of the arts over Barbaric greatness; as the timbers employed in the construction consisted chiefly of the masts of the Persian vessels. Notwithstanding the repairs bestowed on that ancient⁴³ edifice by a king of Cappadocia, it was again fallen to decay. Herod restored its ancient⁴³ beauty and magnificence. Nor was the liberality of that illustrious citizen confined to the walls of Athens. The most splendid ornaments bestowed on the temple of Neptune in the Isthmus, a theatre at Corinth, a stadium at Delphi, a bath at Thermopylae, and an aqueduct at Canusium in Italy, were insufficient to exhaust his treasures. The people⁴³ of Epirus, Thessaly, Euboea, Boeotia, and Peloponnesus, experienced his favours; and many inscriptions of the cities⁴³ of Greece and Asia⁴³ gratefully style Herodes Atticus their patron and benefactor.

In the commonwealths of Athens and Rome, the modest simplicity of private houses announced the equal condition of freedom; whilst the sovereignty of the people⁴³ was represented in the majestic edifices destined to the public⁴³ use: nor was this republican spirit totally extinguished by the introduction of wealth and monarchy. It was in works of national⁴³ honour and benefit that the most virtuous of the emperors affected to display their magnificence. The golden palace of Nero excited a just⁴³ indignation, but the vast extent of ground which had been usurped by his selfish luxury was more nobly filled under the succeeding reigns by the Coliseum, the baths of Titus, the Claudian portico, and the temples dedicated to the goddess of Peace and to the genius of Rome. These monuments of architecture, the property of the Roman⁴³ people⁴³, were adorned with the most beautiful productions of Grecian painting and sculpture; and in the temple of Peace a very curious library was open to the curiosity of the learned. At a small distance from thence was situated the Forum of Trajan. It was surrounded with a lofty portico in the form of a quadrangle, into which four triumphal arches opened a noble and spacious entrance: in the centre arose a column of marble, whose height of one hundred and ten feet denoted the elevation of the hill that had been cut away. This column, which still subsists in its ancient⁴³ beauty, exhibited an exact representation of the Dacian victories of its founder. The veteran soldier contemplated the story of his own campaigns, and, by an easy illusion of national⁴³ vanity, the peaceful citizen associated himself to the honours of the triumph. All the other quarters of the capital⁴³, and all the provinces⁴³ of the empire⁴³, were embellished by the same liberal spirit of public⁴³ magnificence, and were filled with amphitheatres, theatres, temples, porticos, triumphal arches, baths, and aqueducts, all variously conducive to the health, the devotion, and the pleasures of the meanest citizen. The last mentioned of those edifices deserve our peculiar attention. The boldness of the enterprise, the solidity of the execution, and the uses to which they were subservient, rank the aqueducts among the noblest monuments of Roman⁴³ genius and power. The aqueducts of the capital⁴³ claim a just⁴³ pre-eminence; but the curious traveller, who, without the light of history⁴³, should examine those of Spoleto, of Metz, or of Segovia, would very naturally conclude that those provincial towns had formerly been the residence of some potent monarch. The solitudes of Asia⁴³ and Africa were once covered with flourishing cities⁴³, whose populousness, and even whose existence, was derived from such artificial supplies of a perennial stream of fresh water.

We have computed the inhabitants, and contemplated the public²⁸ works, of the Roman²⁸ empire²⁸. The observation of the number²⁸ and greatness of its cities²⁸ will serve to confirm the former and to multiply the latter. It may not be unpleasing to collect a few scattered instances relative to that subject, without forgetting, however, that, from the vanity of nations and the poverty of language, the vague appellation of city²⁸ has been indifferently bestowed on Rome²⁸ and upon Laurentum. I. Ancient²⁸ Italy is said to have contained eleven hundred and ninety-seven²⁸ cities²⁸; and, for whatsoever era of antiquity the expression might be intended, there is not any reason to believe the country less populous in the age²⁸ of the Antonines, than in that of Romulus. The petty states of Latium were contained within the metropolis of the empire²⁸, by whose superior influence they had been attracted. Those parts of Italy which have so long²⁸ languished under the lazy tyranny of priests and viceroys had been afflicted only by the more tolerable calamities of war²⁸; and the first symptoms of decay which they experienced were amply compensated by the rapid²⁸ improvements of the Cisalpine Gaul. The splendour of Verona may be traced in its remains: yet Verona was less celebrated than Aquileia or Padua, Milan or Ravenna. II. The spirit of improvement had passed the Alps, and been felt even in the woods of Britain, which were gradually cleared away to open a free space for convenient and elegant habitations. York was the seat of government; London was already enriched by commerce; and Bath was celebrated for the salutary effects of its medicinal waters. Gaul could boast of her twelve hundred cities²⁸; and, though, in the northern parts, many of them, without excepting Paris itself, were little more than the rude and imperfect townships of a rising people²⁸, the southern provinces²⁸ imitated the wealth and elegance of Italy. Many were the cities²⁸ of Gaul, Marseilles, Arles, Nismes, Narbonne, Toulouse, Bordeaux, Autun, Vienne, Lyons, Langres, and Treves, whose ancient²⁸ condition might sustain an equal, and perhaps advantageous, comparison with their present state²⁸. With regard to Spain, that country flourished as a province, and has declined as a kingdom. Exhausted by the abuse of her strength, by America, and by superstition, her pride might possibly be confounded, if we required such a list of three hundred and sixty cities²⁸ as Pliny has exhibited under the reign²⁸ of Vespasian. III. Three hundred African cities²⁸ had once acknowledged the authority of Carthage, nor is it likely that their numbers diminished under the administration of the emperors: Carthage itself rose with new²⁸ splendour from its ashes; and that capital²⁸, as well as Capua and Corinth, soon²⁸ recovered all the advantages which can be separated from independent sovereignty. IV. The provinces²⁸ of the East²⁸ present the contrast of Roman²⁸ magnificence with Turkish barbarism. The ruins of antiquity, scattered over uncultivated fields, and ascribed by ignorance to the power of magic, scarcely afford a shelter to the oppressed peasant or wandering Arab. Under the reign²⁸ of the Caesars, the proper Asia alone contained five hundred populous cities²⁸, enriched with all the gifts of nature²⁸, and adorned with all the refinements of art. Eleven cities²⁸ of Asia had once disputed the honour of dedicating a temple to Tiberius, and their respective merits were examined by the senate²⁸. Four of them were immediately rejected as unequal to the burden; and among these was Laodicea, whose splendour is still displayed in its ruins. Laodicea collected a very considerable revenue from its flocks of sheep, celebrated for the fineness of their wool, and had received, a little before the contest, a legacy of above four hundred thousand²⁸ pounds by the testament of a generous citizen. If such was the poverty of Laodicea, what must have been the wealth of those cities²⁸, whose claim appeared preferable, and particularly of Pergamus, of Smyrna, and of Ephesus, who so long²⁸ disputed with each other the titular primacy of Asia? The capitals of Syria and Egypt held a still superior rank in the empire²⁸: Antioch and Alexandria looked down with disdain on a crowd of dependent cities²⁸, and yielded with reluctance to the majesty of Rome²⁸ itself.

All these cities⁹ were connected with each other, and with the capital⁹, by the public highways, which, issuing from the Forum of Rome⁹, traversed Italy⁹, pervaded the provinces⁹, and were terminated only by the frontiers of the empire⁹. If we carefully trace the distance from the wall of Antoninus to Rome⁹, and from thence to Jerusalem, it will be found that the great⁹ chain of communication, from the north⁹-west⁹ to the south-east point of the empire⁹, was drawn out to the length of four thousand⁹ and eighty Roman⁹ miles⁹. The public roads were accurately divided by milestones, and ran in a direct line from one city⁹ to another, with very little respect for the obstacles either of nature or private property. Mountains⁹ were perforated, and bold arches thrown over the broadest and most rapid streams. The middle part of the road was raised into a terrace which commanded the adjacent country⁹, consisted of several strata of sand, gravel, and cement and was paved with large stones, or, in some places near the capital⁹, with granite. Such was the solid construction of the Roman⁹ highways, whose firmness has not entirely yielded to the effort of fifteen centuries. They united the subjects of the most distant provinces⁹ by an easy and familiar intercourse; but their primary object had been to facilitate the marches of the legions; nor was any country⁹ considered as completely subdued, till it had been rendered, in all its parts, pervious to the arms⁹ and authority of the conqueror. The advantage of receiving the earliest intelligence, and of conveying their orders with celerity, induced the emperors to establish, throughout their extensive dominions, the regular institution of posts. Houses were everywhere erected at the distance only of five or six miles⁹; each of them was constantly provided with forty horses, and, by the help of these relays, it was easy to travel an hundred miles⁹ in a day along the Roman⁹ roads. The use of the posts was allowed to those who claimed it by an Imperial mandate; but, though originally intended for the public service, it was sometimes indulged to the business or conveniency of private citizens. Nor was the communication of the Roman⁹ empire⁹ less free and open by sea⁹ than it was by land. The provinces⁹ surrounded and enclosed the Mediterranean; and Italy⁹, in the shape of an immense promontory, advanced into the midst of that great⁹ lake. The coasts of Italy⁹ are, in general, destitute of safe harbours; but human industry had corrected the deficiencies of nature; and the artificial port of Ostia, in particular, situate at the mouth of the Tiber, and formed by the Emperor Claudius, was an useful monument of Roman⁹ greatness. From this port, which was only sixteen miles⁹ from the capital⁹, a favourable breeze frequently carried vessels⁹ in seven days to the columns of Hercules, and in nine or ten to Alexandria in Egypt.

Whatever evils either reason or declamation have imputed to extensive empire⁹, the power of Rome⁹ was attended with some beneficial consequences to mankind; and the same freedom of intercourse which extended the vices, diffused likewise the improvements, of social life. In the more remote ages of antiquity, the world was unequally divided. The East was in the immemorial possession of arts and luxury; whilst the West⁹ was inhabited by rude and warlike barbarians⁹, who either disdained agriculture, or to whom it was totally unknown. Under the protection of an established government, the productions of happier climates and the industry of more civilised nations⁹ were gradually introduced into the western countries of Europe⁹; and the natives were encouraged, by an open and profitable commerce, to multiply the former as well as to improve the latter. It would be almost impossible to enumerate all the articles, either of the animal or the vegetable reign, which were successively imported into Europe⁹ from Asia⁹ and Egypt; but it will not be unworthy of the dignity, and much less of the utility, of an historical work, slightly to touch on a few of the principal heads. 1. Almost all the flowers, the herbs, and the fruits that grow in our European gardens are of foreign extraction, which, in many cases, is betrayed even by their names: the apple was a native of Italy⁹, and, when the Romans⁹ had tasted the richer flavour of the apricot, the peach, the pomegranate, the citron, and the orange, they contented themselves with applying to all these new⁹ fruits the common denomination of apple, discriminating them from each other by the additional epithet of their country⁹. 2. In the time of Homer, the vine grew wild in the island of Sicily and most probably in the adjacent continent; but it was not improved by the skill, nor did it afford a liquor grateful to the taste, of the savage inhabitants⁹. A thousand⁹ years afterwards, Italy⁹ could boast that, of the fourscore most generous and celebrated wines, more than two-thirds were produced from her soil. The blessing was soon⁹ communicated to the Narbonnese province⁹ of Gaul; but so intense was the cold to the north⁹ of the Cevennes, that, in the time of Strabo, it was thought impossible to ripen the grapes in those parts of Gaul. This difficulty, however, was gradually vanquished; and there is some reason to believe that the vineyards of Burgundy are as old as the age of the Antonines. 3. The olive, in the western world, followed the progress of peace, of which it was considered as the symbol. Two centuries after the foundation of Rome⁹, both Italy⁹ and Africa⁹ were strangers to that useful plant; it was naturalised in those countries; and at length carried into the heart of Spain and Gaul. The timid errors of the ancients, that it required a certain degree of heat, and could only flourish in the neighbourhood of the sea⁹, were insensibly exploded by industry and experience. 4. The cultivation of flax was transported from Egypt to Gaul, and enriched the whole country⁹, however it might impoverish the particular lands on which it was sown. 5. The use of artificial grasses became familiar to the farmers both of Italy⁹ and the provinces⁹, particularly the Lucerne, which derived its name and origin from Media. The assured supply of wholesome and plentiful food for the cattle during winter multiplied the number of the flocks and herds, which in their turn contributed to the fertility of the soil. To all these improvements may be added an assiduous attention to mines and fisheries, which, by employing a multitude of laborious hands, serve to increase the pleasures of the rich and the subsistence of the poor. The elegant treatise of Columella describes the advanced state of the Spanish husbandry, under the reign of Tiberius; and it may be observed that those famines which so frequently afflicted the infant republic were seldom or never experienced by the extensive empire⁹ of Rome⁹. The accidental scarcity, in any single province⁹, was immediately relieved by the plenty of its more fortunate neighbours.

Agriculture is the foundation of manufactures; since the productions of nature²³ are the materials²³ of art²³. Under the Roman²³ empire²³, the labour of an industrious and ingenious people²³ was variously, but incessantly, employed in the service of the rich. In their dress, their table, their houses²³, and their furniture, the favourites of fortune united every refinement of conveniency, of elegance, and of splendour, whatever could soothe their pride or gratify their sensuality. Such refinements, under the odious name of luxury, have been severely arraigned by the moralists of every age²³; and it might perhaps be more conducive to the virtue, as well as happiness, of mankind²³, if all possessed the necessaries, and none the superfluities, of life. But in the present imperfect condition of society, luxury, though it may proceed from vice or folly, seems to be the only means that can correct the unequal distribution of property²³. The diligent mechanic, and the skilful artist, who have obtained no share in the division of the earth, receive a voluntary tax from the possessors of land; and the latter are prompted, by a sense of interest, to improve those estates, with whose produce they may purchase additional pleasures. This operation, the particular effects of which are felt in every society, acted with much more diffusive energy in the Roman²³ world. The provinces²³ would soon²³ have been exhausted of their wealth²³, if the manufactures and commerce of luxury had not insensibly restored to the industrious subjects the sums which were exacted from them by the arms and authority of Rome²³. As long as the circulation was confined within the bounds of the empire²³, it impressed the political machine with a new²³ degree of activity, and its consequences, sometimes beneficial, could never become pernicious.

But it is no easy task to confine luxury within the limits of an empire²⁴. The most remote countries of the ancient world were ransacked to supply the pomp and delicacy of Rome. The forest of Scythia afforded some valuable furs. Amber was brought overland from the shores of the Baltic to the Danube; and the barbarians were astonished at the price which they received in exchange for so useless a commodity. There was a considerable demand for Babylonian carpets, and other manufactures of the East²⁴; but the most important and unpopular branch of foreign trade was carried on with Arabia and India. Every year, about the time of the summer solstice, a fleet of an hundred and twenty vessels sailed from Myos-hormos, a port of Egypt²⁴, on the Red Sea²⁴. By the periodical assistance of the monsoons, they traversed the ocean in about forty days. The coast of Malabar, or the island of Ceylon, was the usual term of their navigation, and it was in those markets that the merchants from the more remote countries of Asia²⁴ expected their arrival. The return of the fleet of Egypt²⁴ was fixed to the months of December or January; and as soon as their rich cargo had been transported on the backs of camels from the Red Sea²⁴ to the Nile²⁴, and had descended that river as far as Alexandria, it was poured, without delay, into the capital of the empire²⁴. The objects of oriental traffic were splendid and trifling: silk, a pound of which was esteemed not inferior in value to a pound of gold²⁴; precious stones, among which the pearl claimed the first rank after the diamond; and a variety of aromatics, that were consumed in religious worship and the pomp of funerals. The labour and risk of the voyage was rewarded with almost incredible profit; but the profit was made upon Roman²⁴ subjects, and a few individuals were enriched at the expense of the Public. As the natives of Arabia and India were contented with the productions and manufactures of their own country, silver, on the side of the Romans, was the principal, if not the only, instrument of commerce. It was a complaint worthy of the gravity of the senate, that, in the purchase of female ornaments, the wealth of the state²⁴ was irrecoverably given away to foreign and hostile nations. The annual²⁴ loss is computed, by a writer of an inquisitive but censorious temper, at upwards of eight hundred thousand²⁴ pounds sterling. Such was the style of discontent, brooding over the dark prospect of approaching poverty. And yet, if we compare the proportion between gold²⁴ and silver, as it stood in the time of Pliny, and as it was fixed in the reign²⁴ of Constantine, we shall discover within that period a very considerable increase. There is not the least reason to suppose that gold²⁴ was become more scarce; it is therefore evident that silver was grown more common; that whatever might be the amount of the Indian and Arabian²⁴ exports, they were far from exhausting the wealth of the Roman²⁴ world; and that the produce of the mines abundantly supplied the demands of commerce.

Notwithstanding the propensity of mankind to exalt the past, and to depreciate the present, the tranquil and prosperous state¹ of the empire¹ was warmly felt, and honestly confessed, by the provincials as well as Romans¹. They acknowledged that the true principles of social life, laws¹, agriculture, and science, which had been first invented by the wisdom of Athens, were now firmly established by the power¹ of Rome¹, under whose auspicious influence the fiercest barbarians were united by an equal government¹ and common language. They affirm that, with the improvement of arts, the human species was visibly multiplied. They celebrate the increasing splendour of the cities, the beautiful face of the country, cultivated and adorned like an immense garden; and the long¹ festival of peace¹, which was enjoyed by so many nations, forgetful of their ancient¹ animosities, and delivered from the apprehension of future danger. Whatever suspicions may be suggested by the air of rhetoric and declamation which seems to prevail in these passages, the substance of them is perfectly agreeable to historic truth.

It was scarcely possible that the eyes of contemporaries should discover in the public⁴⁷ felicity the latent causes of decay and corruption. This long⁴⁷ peace, and the uniform government⁴⁷ of the Romans, introduced a slow and secret⁴⁷ poison into the vitals of the empire⁴⁷. The minds of men were gradually reduced to the same level, the fire of genius was extinguished, and even the military⁴⁷ spirit⁴⁷ evaporated. The natives of Europe were brave and robust. Spain, Gaul, Britain, and Illyricum supplied the legions with excellent soldiers⁴⁷, and constituted the real strength of the monarchy. Their personal valour remained, but they no longer possessed that public⁴⁷ courage which is nourished by the love of independence, the sense of national honour, the presence of danger⁴⁷, and the habit of command⁴⁷. They received laws and governors from the will of their sovereign⁴⁷, and trusted for their defence to a mercenary army⁴⁷. The posterity of their boldest leaders was contented with the rank⁴⁷ of citizens and subjects. The most aspiring spirits resorted to the court or standard of the emperors; and the deserted provinces⁴⁷, deprived of political strength or union, insensibly sunk into the languid indifference of private⁴⁷ life⁴⁷.

The love of letters, almost inseparable from peace and refinement, was fashionable among the subjects of Hadrian and the Antonines, who were themselves men of learning and curiosity. It was diffused over the whole extent of their empire³⁵; the most northern tribes of Britons had acquired a taste for rhetoric; Homer as well as Virgil were transcribed and studied on the banks of the Rhine and Danube; and the most liberal rewards sought out the faintest glimmerings of literary merit³⁵. The sciences of physic and astronomy were successfully cultivated by the Greeks; the observations of Ptolemy and the writings of Galen are studied by those who have improved their discoveries and corrected their errors; but, if we except the inimitable Lucian, this age³⁵ of indolence passed away without having produced a single writer of original genius³⁵ or who excelled in the arts of elegant composition. The authority of Plato and Aristotle, of Zeno and Epicurus, still reigned in the schools, and their systems, transmitted with blind deference from one generation³⁵ of disciples to another, precluded every generous attempt to exercise the powers, or enlarge the limits, of the human³⁵ mind. The beauties of the poets and orators, instead of kindling a fire like their own, inspired only cold and servile imitations: or, if any ventured to deviate from those models, they deviated at the same time from good sense and propriety. On the revival of letters, the youthful vigour of the imagination after a long repose, national emulation, a new³⁵ religion, new³⁵ languages, and a new³⁵ world, called forth the genius³⁵ of Europe³⁵. But the provincials of Rome, trained by a uniform artificial foreign education, were engaged in a very unequal competition with those bold ancients, who, by expressing their genuine feelings in their native tongue, had already occupied every place of honour. The name of Poet was almost forgotten; that of Orator was usurped by the sophists. A cloud of critics, of compilers, of commentators, darkened the face of learning, and the decline³⁵ of genius³⁵ was soon followed by the corruption of taste.

The sublime Longinus, who in somewhat a later period, and in the court of a Syrian queen, preserved the spirit of ancient⁸ Athens, observes and laments this degeneracy of his contemporaries, which debased their sentiments, enervated their courage, and depressed their talents. In the same manner, says he, as some children always remain pigmies, whose infant limbs have been too closely confined; thus our tender minds, fettered by the prejudices and habits of a just servitude, are unable to expand themselves, or to attain that well-proportioned greatness which we admire in the ancients, who, living under a popular government, wrote with the same freedom as they acted. This diminutive stature of mankind⁸, if we pursue the metaphor, was daily sinking below the old standard, and the Roman world⁸ was indeed peopled by a race of pigmies, when the fierce giants of the North broke in and mended the puny breed. They restored a manly spirit of freedom; and, after the revolution of ten centuries, freedom became the happy parent of taste and science.

The obvious definition of a monarchy seems to be that of a state³⁷, in which a single person, by whatsoever name he may be distinguished³⁷, is entrusted with the execution of the laws³⁷, the management of the revenue, and the command of the army. But unless public³⁷ liberty³⁷ is protected by intrepid and vigilant guardians, the authority of so formidable a magistrate will soon³⁷ degenerate into despotism. The influence of the clergy, in an age of superstition, might be usefully employed to assert the rights of mankind; but so intimate is the connection between the throne and the altar, that the banner of the church has very seldom been seen on the side of the people³⁷. A martial nobility and stubborn commons³⁷, possessed of arms³⁷, tenacious of property, and collected into constitutional assemblies, form the only balance capable of preserving a free constitution against enterprises of an aspiring prince.

Every barrier of the Roman⁴⁷ constitution had been levelled by the vast ambition of the dictator; every fence had been extirpated by the cruel hand of the triumvir. After the victory of Actium, the fate of the Roman⁴⁷ world depended on the will of Octavianus, surnamed Caesar by his uncle's adoption, and afterwards Augustus, by the flattery of the senate⁴⁷. The conqueror was at the head of forty-four veteran legions, conscious of their own strength and of the weakness of the constitution, habituated during twenty years' civil⁴⁷ war⁴⁷ to every act of blood and violence, and passionately devoted to the house of Caesar, from whence alone they had received and expected the most lavish rewards. The provinces⁴⁷, long⁴⁷ oppressed by the ministers of the republic, sighed for the government⁴⁷ of a single person⁴⁷, who would be the master⁴⁷, not the accomplice, of those petty tyrants. The people⁴⁷ of Rome⁴⁷, viewing with a secret⁴⁷ pleasure the humiliation of the aristocracy, demanded only bread and public⁴⁷ shows, and were supplied with both by the liberal hand of Augustus. The rich and polite Italians, who had almost universally embraced the philosophy of Epicurus, enjoyed the present blessings of ease and tranquillity, and suffered not the pleasing dream to be interrupted by the memory of their old tumultuous freedom. With its power⁴⁷, the senate⁴⁷ had lost its dignity; many of the most noble families were extinct. The republicans of spirit⁴⁷ and ability had perished in the field of battle, or in the proscription. The door of the assembly had been designedly left open for a mixed multitude of more than a thousand persons, who reflected disgrace upon their rank⁴⁷, instead of deriving honour from it.

The reformation of the senate⁴⁷ was one of the first steps in which Augustus laid aside the tyrant⁴⁷ and professed himself the father⁴⁷ of his country. He was elected censor; and, in concert with his faithful Agrippa, he examined the list of the senators, expelled a few members, whose vices or whose obstinacy required a public⁴⁷ example, persuaded near two hundred to prevent the shame of an expulsion by a voluntary retreat, raised the qualification of a senator to about ten thousand pounds, created a sufficient number of patrician families, and accepted for himself the honourable title of Prince⁴⁷ of the Senate⁴⁷, which had always been bestowed by the censors on the citizen the most eminent for his honours and services. But, whilst he thus restored the dignity, he destroyed the independence of the senate⁴⁷. The principles of a free constitution are irrecoverably lost, when the legislative power⁴⁷ is nominated by the executive.

Before an assembly thus modelled and prepared, Augustus pronounced a studied oration, which displayed his patriotism, and disguised his ambition. He lamented, yet excused, his past conduct⁴⁷. Filial piety had required at his hands the revenge of his father⁴⁷'s murder; the humanity of his own nature had sometimes given way to the stern laws of necessity, and to a forced connection with two unworthy colleagues: as long⁴⁷ as Antony lived, the republic forbade him to abandon her to a degenerate Roman⁴⁷ and a barbarian queen. He was now at liberty to satisfy his duty and his inclination. He solemnly restored the senate⁴⁷ and people⁴⁷ to all their ancient rights; and wished only to mingle with the crowd of his fellow-citizens, and to share the blessings which he had obtained for his country.

It would require the pen of Tacitus (if Tacitus had assisted at this assembly) to describe the various emotions of the senate⁴⁷; those that were suppressed, and those that were effected. It was dangerous to trust the sincerity of Augustus; to seem to distrust it was still more dangerous. The respective advantages of monarchy and a republic have often divided speculative inquirers; the present greatness of the Roman⁴⁷ state, the corruption of manners, and the licence of the soldiers⁴⁷, supplied new arguments to the advocates of monarchy; and these general⁴⁷ views of government⁴⁷ were again warped by the hopes and fears of each individual. Amidst this confusion of sentiments, the answer of the senate⁴⁷ was unanimous and decisive. They refused to accept the resignation of Augustus; they conjured him not to desert the republic which he had saved. After a decent resistance the crafty tyrant⁴⁷ submitted to the orders of the senate⁴⁷; and consented to receive the government⁴⁷ of the provinces⁴⁷, and the general⁴⁷ command⁴⁷ of the Roman⁴⁷ armies, under the well-known names of Proconsul and Imperator. But he would receive them only for ten years. Even before the expiration of that period, he hoped that the wounds of civil⁴⁷ discord would be completely healed, and that the republic, restored to its pristine health and vigour, would no longer require the dangerous interposition of so extraordinary a magistrate. The memory of this comedy, repeated several times during the life⁴⁷ of Augustus, was preserved to the last ages of the empire⁴⁷ by the peculiar pomp with which the perpetual monarchs of Rome⁴⁷ always solemnised the tenth years of their reign⁴⁷.

Without any violation of the principles of the constitution, the general⁴⁷ of the Roman⁴⁷ armies might receive and exercise an authority⁴⁷ almost despotic over the soldiers⁴⁷, the enemies, and the subjects of the republic. With regard to the soldiers⁴⁷, the jealousy of freedom had, even from the earliest ages of Rome⁴⁷, given way to the hopes of conquest, and a just sense of military⁴⁷ discipline. The dictator, or consul, had a right to command⁴⁷ the service of the Roman⁴⁷ youth, and to punish an obstinate or cowardly disobedience by the most severe and ignominious penalties, by striking the offender out of the list of citizens, by confiscating his property, and by selling his person⁴⁷ into slavery. The most sacred rights of freedom, confirmed by the Porcian and Sempronian laws, were suspended by the military⁴⁷ engagement. In his camp the general⁴⁷ exercised an absolute power⁴⁷ of life⁴⁷ and death⁴⁷; his jurisdiction was not confined by any forms of trial or rules of proceeding, and the execution of the sentence was immediate and without appeal. The choice of the enemies of Rome⁴⁷ was regularly decided by the legislative authority⁴⁷. The most important resolutions of peace and war⁴⁷ were seriously debated in the senate⁴⁷, and solemnly ratified by the people⁴⁷. But when the arms⁴⁷ of the legions were carried to a great distance from Italy⁴⁷, the generals assumed the liberty of directing them against whatever people⁴⁷, and in whatever manner, they judged most advantageous for the public⁴⁷ service. It was from the success, not from the justice⁴⁷, of their enterprises, that they expected the honours of a triumph. In the use of victory, especially after they were no longer controlled by the commissioners of the senate⁴⁷, they exercised the most unbounded despotism. When Pompey commanded in the East⁴⁷, he rewarded his soldiers⁴⁷ and allies, dethroned princes, divided kingdoms, founded colonies, and distributed the treasures of Mithridates. On his return to Rome⁴⁷ he obtained, by a single act of the senate⁴⁷ and people⁴⁷, the universal ratification of all his proceedings. Such was the power⁴⁷ over the soldiers⁴⁷, and over the enemies of Rome⁴⁷, which was either granted to, or assumed by, the generals of the republic. They were, at the same time, the governors, or rather monarchs, of the conquered provinces⁴⁷, united the civil⁴⁷ with the military⁴⁷ character, administered justice⁴⁷ as well as the finances, and exercised both the executive and legislative power⁴⁷ of the state.

From what has been already observed in the first chapter of this work, some notion may be formed of the armies and provinces³⁹ thus entrusted to the ruling hand of Augustus. But, as it was impossible that he could personally command the legions³⁹ of so many distant frontiers, he was indulged by the senate³⁹, as Pompey had already been, in the permission of devolving the execution of his great³⁹ office on a sufficient number³⁹ of lieutenants. In rank and authority these officers seemed not inferior to the ancient proconsuls; but their station was dependent and precarious. They received and held their commissions at the will of a superior, to whose auspicious influence the merit of their action was legally attributed. They were the representatives of the emperor³⁹. The emperor³⁹ alone was the general³⁹ of the republic³⁹, and his jurisdiction, civil as well as military, extended over all the conquests of Rome³⁹. It was some satisfaction, however, to the senate³⁹ that he always delegated his power³⁹ to the members of their body. The imperial lieutenants were of consular or praetorian dignity; the legions³⁹ were commanded³⁹ by senators, and the prefecture of Egypt³⁹ was the only important trust committed to a Roman³⁹ knight.

Within six days after Augustus had been compelled to accept so very liberal a grant, he resolved to gratify the pride of the senate⁴⁷ by an easy sacrifice. He represented to them that they had enlarged his powers, even beyond that degree which might be required by the melancholy condition of the times. They had not permitted him to refuse the laborious command⁴⁷ of the armies and the frontiers; but he must insist on being allowed to restore the more peaceful and secure provinces⁴⁷ to the mild administration of the civil⁴⁷ magistrate. In the division of the provinces⁴⁷ Augustus provided for his own power⁴⁷ and for the dignity of the republic. The proconsuls of the senate⁴⁷, particularly those of Asia, Greece, and Africa, enjoyed a more honourable character than the lieutenants of the emperor⁴⁷, who commanded in Gaul or Syria. The former were attended by lictors, the latter by soldiers⁴⁷. A law was passed that, wherever the emperor⁴⁷ was present, his extraordinary commission should supersede the ordinary jurisdiction of the governor; a custom was introduced, that the new conquests belonged to the imperial⁴⁷ portion; and it was soon⁴⁷ discovered that the authority⁴⁷ of the Prince⁴⁷, the favourite epithet of Augustus, was the same in every part of the empire⁴⁷.

In return for this imaginary concession, Augustus obtained an important privilege, which rendered him master⁴⁷ of Rome⁴⁷ and Italy⁴⁷. By a dangerous exception to the ancient maxims, he was authorised to preserve his military⁴⁷ command⁴⁷, supported by a numerous body of guards, even in time of peace, and in the heart of the capital. His command⁴⁷, indeed, was confined to those citizens who were engaged in the service by the military⁴⁷ oath; but such was the propensity of the Romans to servitude, that the oath was voluntarily taken by the magistrates, the senators, and the equestrian order, till the homage of flattery was insensibly converted into an annual and solemn protestation of fidelity.

Although Augustus considered a military force as the firmest foundation, he wisely rejected it as a very odious instrument, of government¹. It was more agreeable to his temper, as well as to his policy¹, to reign¹ under the venerable names of ancient¹ magistracy, and artfully to collect in his own person all the scattered rays of civil¹ jurisdiction¹. With this view, he permitted the senate¹ to confer upon him, for his life, the powers of the consular and tribunitian offices, which were, in the same manner, continued to all his successors¹. The consuls had succeeded to the kings of Rome¹, and represented the dignity of the state¹. They superintended the ceremonies of religion¹, levied and commanded the legions, gave audience to foreign ambassadors, and presided in the assemblies both of the senate¹ and people¹. The general control of the finances was entrusted to their care; and, though they seldom had leisure to administer justice¹ in person, they were considered as the supreme guardians of law, equity, and the public¹ peace¹. Such was their ordinary jurisdiction¹; but, whenever the senate¹ empowered the first magistrate¹ to consult the safety of the commonwealth, he was raised by that degree above the laws¹, and exercised, in the defence of liberty, a temporary despotism. The character of the tribunes was, in every respect, different from that of the consuls. The appearance of the former was modest and humble; but their persons were sacred¹ and inviolable. Their force was suited rather for opposition than for action. They were instituted to defend the oppressed, to pardon offences, to arraign the enemies of the people¹, and, when they judged it necessary, to stop, by a single word, the whole machine of government¹. As long¹ as the republic¹ subsisted, the dangerous influence which either the consul or the tribune might derive from their respective jurisdiction¹ was diminished by several important restrictions. Their authority¹ expired with the year in which they were elected; the former office¹ was divided between two, the latter among ten persons; and, as both in their private and public¹ interest they were adverse to each other, their mutual conflicts contributed, for the most part, to strengthen rather than to destroy the balance of the constitution. But when the consular and tribunitian powers were united, when they were vested for life in a single person, when the general of the army was, at the same time, the minister of the senate¹ and the representative of the Roman¹ people¹, it was impossible to resist the exercise, nor was it easy to define the limits, of his imperial prerogative.

To these accumulated honours the policy of Augustus²⁶ soon²⁶ added the splendid as well as important²⁶ dignities of supreme pontiff, and of censor. By the former he acquired the management of the religion, and by the latter a legal inspection over the manners and fortunes, of the Roman²⁶ people²⁶. If so many distinct²⁶ and independent powers did not exactly unite with each other, the complaisance of the senate²⁶ was prepared²⁶ to supply every deficiency by the most ample²⁶ and extraordinary²⁶ concessions. The emperors²⁶, as the first ministers of the republic, were exempted from the obligation and penalty of many inconvenient laws²⁶: they were authorised to convoke the senate²⁶, to make several motions in the same day, to recommend candidates for the honours of the state²⁶, to enlarge the bounds of the city, to employ the revenue at their discretion, to declare peace and war²⁶, to ratify treaties; and by a most comprehensive clause, they were empowered to execute whatsoever they should judge advantageous to the empire²⁶, and agreeable to the majesty of things private or public²⁶, human or divine²⁶.

When all the various powers of executive government¹ were committed to the Imperial magistrate¹, the ordinary magistrates¹ of the commonwealth languished in obscurity, without vigour, and almost without business. The names and forms of the ancient¹ administration were preserved by Augustus with the most anxious care. The usual number of consuls, praetors, and tribunes were annually invested with their respective ensigns of office¹, and continued to discharge some of their least important functions. Those honours¹ still attracted the vain ambition of the Romans¹; and the emperors¹ themselves, though invested for life with the powers of the consulship, frequently aspired to the title¹ of that annual dignity, which they condescended to share with the most illustrious of their fellow-citizens. In the election of these magistrates¹, the people¹, during the reign¹ of Augustus, were permitted to expose all the inconveniences of a wild democracy. That artful prince, instead of discovering the least symptom of impatience, humbly solicited their suffrages for himself or his friends, and scrupulously practised all the duties of an ordinary candidate. But we may venture to ascribe to his councils the first measure of the succeeding reign¹, by which the elections were transferred to the senate¹. The assemblies of the people¹ were for ever abolished, and the emperors¹ were delivered from a dangerous multitude, who, without restoring liberty, might have disturbed, and perhaps endangered, the established government¹.

By declaring themselves the protectors of the people⁴⁷, Marius and Caesar had subverted the constitution of their country. But as soon⁴⁷ as the senate⁴⁷ had been humbled and disarmed, such an assembly, consisting of five or six hundred persons, was found a much more tractable and useful instrument of dominion. It was on the dignity of the senate⁴⁷ that Augustus and his successors founded their new empire⁴⁷; and they affected, on every occasion, to adopt the language and principles of Patricians. In the administration of their own powers, they frequently consulted the great national council, and seemed to refer to its decision the most important concerns of peace and war⁴⁷. Rome⁴⁷, Italy⁴⁷, and the internal provinces⁴⁷ were subject to the immediate jurisdiction of the senate⁴⁷. With regard to civil⁴⁷ objects, it was the supreme court of appeal; with regard to criminal matters, a tribunal, constituted for the trial of all offences that were committed by men in any public⁴⁷ station, or that affected the peace and majesty of the Roman⁴⁷ people⁴⁷. The exercise of the judicial power⁴⁷ became the most frequent and serious occupation of the senate⁴⁷; and the important causes that were pleaded before them afforded a last refuge to the spirit⁴⁷ of ancient eloquence. As a council of state, and as a court of justice⁴⁷, the senate⁴⁷ possessed very considerable prerogatives; but in its legislative capacity, in which it was supposed virtually to represent the people⁴⁷, the rights of sovereignty were acknowledged to reside in that assembly. Every power⁴⁷ was derived from their authority⁴⁷, every law was ratified by their sanction. Their regular meetings were held on three stated days in every month, the Calends, the Nones, and the Ides. The debates were conducted with decent freedom; and the emperors themselves, who gloried in the name of senators, sat, voted, and divided with their equals.

To resume, in a few words, the system of the Imperial government, as it was instituted by Augustus²¹, and maintained by those princes²¹ who understood their own interest and that of the people²¹, it may be defined an absolute monarchy²¹ disguised by the forms of a commonwealth. The masters of the Roman²¹ world²¹ surrounded their throne²¹ with darkness, concealed their irresistible strength, and humbly professed themselves the accountable ministers of the senate²¹, whose supreme²¹ decrees they dictated and obeyed.

The face of the court corresponded with the forms of the administration. The emperors⁶, if we except those tyrants whose capricious folly violated every law⁶ of nature⁶ and decency, disdained that pomp and ceremony which might offend their countrymen, but could add nothing to their real power⁶. In all the offices of life⁶, they affected to confound themselves with their subjects⁶, and maintained with them an equal⁶ intercourse of visits and entertainments. Their habit, their palace, their table, were suited only to the rank of an opulent senator. Their family, however numerous or splendid, was composed entirely of their domestic⁶ slaves and freedmen. Augustus⁶ or Trajan would have blushed at employing the meanest of the Romans⁶ in those menial offices which, in the household and bedchamber of a limited monarch, are so eagerly solicited by the proudest nobles of Britain.

The deification of the emperors⁶ is the only instance in which they departed from their accustomed prudence⁶ and modesty. The Asiatic Greeks were the first inventors, the successors of Alexander the first objects, of this servile and impious mode of adulation. It was easily transferred from the kings⁶ to the governors of Asia; and the Roman⁶ magistrates very frequently were adored as provincial deities, with the pomp of altars and temples, of festivals and sacrifices. It was natural that the emperors⁶ should not refuse what the proconsuls had accepted; and the divine honours which both the one and the other received from the provinces⁶ attested rather the despotism than the servitude of Rome⁶. But the conquerors soon⁶ imitated the vanquished nations in the arts⁶ of flattery; and the imperious spirit of the first Caesar too easily consented to assume, during his lifetime, a place among the tutelar deities of Rome⁶. The milder temper of his successor declined so dangerous an ambition, which was never afterwards revived, except by the madness of Caligula and Domitian. Augustus⁶ permitted indeed some of the provincial cities to erect temples to his honour, on condition that they should associate the worship of Rome⁶ with that of the sovereign; he tolerated private⁶ superstition, of which he might be the object; but he contented himself with being revered by the senate and people⁶ in his human⁶ character, and wisely left to his successor the care of his public⁶ deification. A regular custom was introduced⁶, that, on the decease of every emperor who had neither lived nor died like a tyrant, the senate by a solemn decree should place him in the number of the gods: and the ceremonies of his apotheosis were blended with those of his funeral. This legal, and, as it should seem, injudicious profanation, so abhorrent to our stricter principles, was received with a very faint murmur by the easy nature⁶ of Polytheism; but it was received as an institution, not of religion⁶, but of policy. We should disgrace the virtues of the Antonines by comparing them with the vices of Hercules or Jupiter. Even the characters of Caesar or Augustus⁶ were far superior to those of the popular deities. But it was the misfortune of the former to live in an enlightened age⁶, and their actions were too faithfully recorded to admit of such a mixture of fable and mystery as the devotion of the vulgar requires. As soon⁶ as their divinity was established by law⁶, it sunk into oblivion, without contributing either to their own fame or to the dignity of succeeding princes⁶.

In the consideration of the Imperial government¹, we have frequently mentioned the artful founder, under his well-known title¹ of Augustus, which was not however conferred upon him till the edifice was almost completed. The obscure name of Octavianus he derived from a mean family in the little town of Aricia. It was stained with the blood of the proscriptions; and he was desirous, had it been possible, to erase all memory of his former life. The illustrious surname of Caesar he had assumed¹, as the adopted son of the dictator; but he had too much good sense either to hope to be confounded, or to wish to be compared, with that extraordinary man. It was proposed in the senate¹ to dignify their minister with a new¹ appellation; and after a very serious discussion, that of Augustus was chosen, among several others, as being the most expressive of the character of peace¹ and sanctity which he uniformly affected. Augustus was therefore a personal, Caesar a family distinction. The former should naturally have expired with the prince on whom it was bestowed; and however the latter was diffused by adoption and female alliance, Nero was the last prince who could allege any hereditary claim to the honours¹ of the Julian line. But, at the time of his death, the practice of a century had inseparably connected those appellations with the Imperial dignity, and they have been preserved by a long¹ succession of emperors¹, — Romans¹, Greeks, Franks, and Germans, — from the fall of the republic¹ to the present time. A distinction was, however, soon introduced. The sacred¹ title¹ of Augustus was always reserved for the monarch, whilst the name of Caesar was more freely communicated to his relations; and, from the reign¹ of Hadrian at least, was appropriated to the second person in the state¹, who was considered as the presumptive heir of the empire¹.

The tender respect of Augustus for a free¹⁶ constitution which he had destroyed can only be explained by an attentive¹⁶ consideration of the character¹⁶ of that subtle tyrant¹⁶. A cool head, an unfeeling heart, and a cowardly disposition, prompted him at the age¹⁶ of nineteen to assume the mask of hypocrisy, which he never afterwards laid aside. With the same hand, and probably with the same temper, he signed the proscription of Cicero and the pardon of Cinna. His virtues, and even his vices, were artificial; and according¹⁶ to the various¹⁶ dictates of his interest, he was at first the enemy, and at last the father¹⁶, of the Roman¹⁶ world. When he framed the artful system of the Imperial authority, his moderation was inspired by his fears. He wished to deceive the people¹⁶ by an image of civil¹⁶ liberty, and the armies¹⁶ by an image of civil¹⁶ government¹⁶.

I. The death⁴⁷ of Caesar was ever before his eyes. He had lavished wealth and honours on his adherents; but the most favoured friends of his uncle were in the number of the conspirators. The fidelity of the legions might defend his authority⁴⁷ against open rebellion, but their vigilance could not secure his person⁴⁷ from the dagger of a determined republican; and the Romans, who revered the memory of Brutus, would applaud the imitation of his virtue. Caesar had provoked his fate as much by the ostentation of his power⁴⁷ as by his power⁴⁷ itself. The consul or the tribune might have reigned in peace. The title of king had armed the Romans against his life⁴⁷. Augustus was sensible that mankind is governed by names; nor was he deceived in his expectation that the senate⁴⁷ and people⁴⁷ would submit to slavery, provided they were respectfully assured that they still enjoyed their ancient freedom. A feeble senate⁴⁷ and enervated people⁴⁷ cheerfully acquiesced in the pleasing illusion, as long⁴⁷ as it was supported by the virtue, or by even the prudence, of the successors of Augustus. It was a motive of self-preservation, not a principle of liberty, that animated the conspirators against Caligula, Nero, and Domitian. They attacked the person⁴⁷ of the tyrant⁴⁷, without aiming their blow at the authority⁴⁷ of the emperor⁴⁷.

There appears, indeed, one memorable occasion, in which the senate, after seventy years of patience, made an ineffectual attempt to reassume its long-forgotten rights. When the throne was vacant by the murder of Caligula, the consuls convoked that assembly in the Capitol, condemned the memory of the Caesars, gave the watchword liberty to the few cohorts who faintly adhered to their standard, and during eight and forty hours acted as the independent chiefs of a free commonwealth. But while they deliberated, the praetorian guards had resolved. The stupid Claudius, brother of Germanicus, was already in their camp, invested with the Imperial purple, and prepared to support his election by arms¹⁷. The dream of liberty was at an end; and the senate awoke to all the horrors of inevitable servitude. Deserted by the people¹⁷, and threatened by a military force, that feeble assembly was compelled to ratify the choice of the praetorians, and to embrace the benefit of an amnesty, which Claudius had the prudence to offer, and the generosity to observe.

II. The insolence of the armies inspired Augustus with fears of a still more alarming nature. The despair of the citizens could only attempt what the power⁴⁷ of the soldiers⁴⁷ was, at any time, able to execute. How precarious was his own authority⁴⁷ over men whom he had taught to violate every social duty! He had heard their seditious clamours; he dreaded their calmer moments of reflection. One revolution had been purchased by immense rewards; but a second revolution might double those rewards. The troops⁴⁷ professed the fondest attachment to the house of Caesar; but the attachments of the multitude are capricious and inconstant. Augustus summoned to his aid whatever remained in those fierce minds of Roman⁴⁷ prejudices; enforced the rigour of discipline by the sanction of law; and, interposing the majesty of the senate⁴⁷ between the emperor⁴⁷ and the army⁴⁷, boldly claimed their allegiance as the first magistrate of the republic.

During a long⁶ period of two hundred and twenty years, from the establishment of this artful system to the death of Commodus, the dangers inherent to a military⁶ government⁶ were, in a great⁶ measure, suspended. The soldiers were seldom roused to that fatal sense of their own strength, and of the weakness of the civil⁶ authority, which was, before and afterwards, productive of such dreadful calamities. Caligula and Domitian were assassinated in their palace by their own domestics: the convulsions which agitated Rome⁶ on the death of the former were confined to the walls of the city. But Nero involved the whole empire⁶ in his ruin. In the space of eighteen months four princes⁶ perished by the sword; and the Roman⁶ world⁶ was shaken by the fury of the contending armies. Excepting only this short, though violent, eruption of military⁶ licence, the two centuries from Augustus⁶ to Commodus passed away, unstained with civil⁶ blood, and undisturbed by revolutions. The emperor was elected by the authority of the senate and the consent of the soldiers. The legions respected their oath of fidelity; and it requires a minute inspection of the Roman⁶ annals to discover three inconsiderable rebellions, which were all suppressed in a few months, and without even the hazard of a battle.

In elective monarchies, the vacancy of the throne³ is a moment big with danger and mischief. The Roman³ emperors, desirous to spare the legions that interval of suspense, and the temptation of an irregular choice, invested their designed successor with so large a share of present power, as should enable him, after their decease, to assume the remainder without suffering the empire³ to perceive the change of masters. Thus Augustus, after all his fairer prospects had been snatched from him by untimely deaths, rested his last hopes on Tiberius, obtained for his adopted son³ the censorial and tribunitian powers, and dictated a law, by which the future prince³ was invested with an authority equal to his own over the provinces³ and the armies. Thus Vespasian subdued the generous mind of his eldest son³. Titus was adored by the eastern legions, which, under his command, had recently achieved the conquest of Judea. His power was dreaded, and, as his virtues were clouded by the intemperance of youth, his designs were suspected. Instead of listening to such unworthy suspicions, the prudent monarch³ associated Titus to the full powers of the Imperial dignity; and the grateful son³ ever approved himself the humble and faithful minister of so indulgent a father.

The good sense of Vespasian engaged him indeed to embrace every measure that might confirm his recent and precarious elevation. The military⁴⁷ oath, and the fidelity of the troops⁴⁷, had been consecrated, by the habits of an hundred years, to the name and family of the Caesars; and, although that family had been continued only by the fictitious rite of adoption, the Romans still revered, in the person⁴⁷ of Nero, the grandson of Germanicus, and the lineal successor of Augustus. It was not without reluctance and remorse that the praetorian guards had been persuaded to abandon the cause of the tyrant⁴⁷. The rapid downfall of Galba, Otho, and Vitellius taught the armies to consider the emperors as the creatures of their will, and the instruments of their licence. The birth of Vespasian was mean; his grandfather had been a private⁴⁷ soldier, his father⁴⁷ a petty officer of the revenue, his own merit⁴⁷ had raised him, in an advanced age⁴⁷, to the empire⁴⁷; but his merit⁴⁷ was rather useful than shining, and his virtues were disgraced by a strict and even sordid parsimony. Such a prince⁴⁷ consulted his true interest by the association of a son⁴⁷ whose more splendid and amiable character might turn the public⁴⁷ attention from the obscure origin to the future glories of the Flavian house. Under the mild administration of Titus, the Roman⁴⁷ world enjoyed a transient felicity, and his beloved memory served to protect, above fifteen years, the vices of his brother Domitian.

Nerva had scarcely accepted the purple from the assassins of Domitian before he discovered that his feeble age⁴⁷ was unable to stem the torrent of public⁴⁷ disorders which had multiplied under the long⁴⁷ tyranny of his predecessor. His mild disposition was respected by the good; but the degenerate Romans required a more vigorous character, whose justice⁴⁷ should strike terror into the guilty. Though he had several relations, he fixed his choice on a stranger. He adopted Trajan, then about forty years of age⁴⁷, and who commanded a powerful army⁴⁷ in the Lower Germany; and immediately, by a decree of the senate⁴⁷, declared him his colleague and successor in the empire⁴⁷. It is sincerely to be lamented, that, whilst we are fatigued with the disgustful relation of Nero's crimes and follies, we are reduced to collect the actions of Trajan from the glimmerings of an abridgment, or the doubtful light of a panegyric. There remains, however, one panegyric far removed beyond the suspicion of flattery. Above two hundred and fifty years after the death⁴⁷ of Trajan, the senate⁴⁷, in pouring out the customary acclamations on the accession of a new emperor⁴⁷, wished that he might surpass the felicity of Augustus, and the virtue of Trajan.

We may readily believe that the father of his country hesitated whether he ought to entrust the various and doubtful character⁴⁵ of his kinsman Hadrian with sovereign⁴⁵ power⁴⁵. In his last moments, the arts of the empress⁴⁵ Plotina either fixed the irresolution of Trajan, or boldly supposed a fictitious adoption, the truth of which could not be safely disputed; and Hadrian was peaceably acknowledged as his lawful successor. Under his reign⁴⁵, as has been already mentioned, the empire⁴⁵ flourished in peace and prosperity. He encouraged the arts, reformed the laws, asserted military discipline, and visited all his provinces in person. His vast and active genius was equally suited to the most enlarged views and the minute details of civil⁴⁵ policy. But the ruling passions of his soul were curiosity and vanity. As they prevailed, and as they were attracted by different objects, Hadrian was, by turns, an excellent prince, a ridiculous sophist, and a jealous tyrant⁴⁵. The general tenor of his conduct deserved praise for its equity and moderation. Yet, in the first days of his reign⁴⁵, he put to death⁴⁵ four consular senators, his personal enemies, and men who had been judged worthy of empire⁴⁵; and the tediousness of a painful illness rendered him, at last, peevish and cruel. The senate doubted whether they should pronounce him a god⁴⁵ or a tyrant⁴⁵; and the honours decreed to his memory were granted to the prayers of the pious⁴⁵ Antoninus.

The caprice of Hadrian influenced his choice¹⁴ of a successor. After revolving in his mind several men of distinguished merit¹⁴, whom he esteemed and hated, he adopted Aelius Verus, a gay and voluptuous nobleman, recommended by uncommon beauty¹⁴ to the lover of Antinous. But whilst Hadrian was delighting himself with his own applause, and the acclamations of the soldiers, whose consent had been secured by an immense donative, the new Caesar was ravished from his embraces by an untimely death¹⁴. He left only one son¹⁴. Hadrian commended the boy to the gratitude of the Antonines. He was adopted by Pius; and, on the accession of Marcus, was invested with an equal share of sovereign power. Among the many vices of this younger Verus, he possessed one virtue — a dutiful reverence for his wiser colleague, to whom he willingly abandoned the ruder cares of empire. The philosophic emperor dissembled his follies, lamented his early death¹⁴, and cast a decent veil over his memory.

As soon as Hadrian's passion was either gratified or disappointed, he resolved to deserve the thanks of posterity by placing the most exalted merit on the Roman¹³ throne. His discerning eye easily discovered a senator about fifty years¹³ of age¹³, blameless in all the offices of life¹³; and a youth¹³ of about seventeen, whose riper years¹³ opened the fair prospect of every virtue¹³: the elder¹³ of these was declared the son¹³ and successor of Hadrian, on condition, however, that he himself should immediately adopt the younger¹³. The two Antonines (for it is of them that we are now speaking) governed the Roman¹³ world forty-two years¹³ with the same invariable spirit of wisdom and virtue¹³. Although Pius had two sons¹³, he preferred the welfare of Rome to the interest of his family¹³, gave his daughter¹³ Faustina in marriage¹³ to young¹³ Marcus, obtained from the senate the tribunitian and proconsular powers, and, with a noble disdain, or rather ignorance, of jealousy, associated him to all the labours of government. Marcus, on the other hand, revered the character of his benefactor, loved him as a parent, obeyed him as his sovereign, and, after he was no more, regulated his own administration by the example and maxims of his predecessor. Their united reigns are possibly the only period of history in which the happiness of a great¹³ people was the sole object of government.

Titus Antoninus Pius had been justly denominated a second Numa. The same love of religion⁸, justice, and peace was the distinguishing characteristic of both princes. But the situation of the latter opened a much larger field for the exercise of those virtues. Numa could only prevent a few neighbouring villages from plundering each other's harvests. Antoninus diffused order and tranquillity over the greatest part of the earth. His reign⁸ is marked by the rare advantage of furnishing very few materials for history; which is, indeed, little more than the register of the crimes, follies, and misfortunes of mankind⁸. In private⁸ life⁸ he was an amiable as well as a good man⁸. The native simplicity of his virtue⁸ was a stranger to vanity or affectation. He enjoyed with moderation the conveniences of his fortune, and the innocent pleasures of society⁸; and the benevolence of his soul displayed itself in a cheerful serenity of temper.

The virtue of Marcus Aurelius Antoninus was of a severer and more laborious kind. It was the well-earned harvest of many a learned conference, of many a patient lecture, and many a midnight lucubration. At the age²³ of twelve years²³ he embraced the rigid system of the Stoics, which taught him to submit his body to his mind, his passions to his reason; to consider virtue as the only good, vice as the only evil, all things external as things indifferent. His Meditations, composed in the tumult of a camp, are still extant; and he even condescended to give lessons on philosophy, in a more public²³ manner than was perhaps consistent with the modesty of a sage or the dignity of an emperor. But his life was the noblest commentary on the precepts of Zeno. He was severe to himself, indulgent to the imperfection of others, just and beneficent to all mankind²³. He regretted that Avidius Cassius, who excited a rebellion in Syria, had disappointed him, by a voluntary death²³, of the pleasure of converting an enemy into a friend; and he justified the sincerity of that sentiment, by moderating the zeal of the senate against the adherents of the traitor. War he detested, as the disgrace and calamity of human nature²³; but when the necessity of a just defence called upon him to take up arms, he readily exposed²³ his person to eight winter campaigns on the frozen banks of the Danube, the severity of which was at last fatal to the weakness of his constitution. His memory was revered by a grateful posterity, and above a century after his death²³ many persons²³ preserved the image of Marcus Antoninus among those of their household gods.

If a man were called to fix the period in the history of the world during which the condition of the human race was most happy and prosperous, he would, without hesitation, name that which elapsed from the death of Domitian to the accession of Commodus. The vast extent of the Roman¹ empire¹ was governed by absolute power¹, under the guidance of virtue and wisdom. The armies were restrained by the firm but gentle hand of four successive emperors¹, whose characters and authority¹ commanded involuntary respect. The forms of the civil¹ administration were carefully preserved by Nerva, Trajan, Hadrian, and the Antonines, who delighted in the image of liberty, and were pleased with considering themselves as the accountable ministers of the laws¹. Such princes¹ deserved the honour of restoring the republic¹, had the Romans¹ of their days been capable of enjoying a rational freedom¹.

The labours of these monarchs were over-paid by the immense reward that inseparably waited on their success; by the honest pride of virtue, and by the exquisite delight of beholding the general³⁶ happiness of which they were the authors. A just but melancholy reflection embittered, however, the noblest of human enjoyments. They must often have recollected the instability of a happiness which depended on the character of a single man. The fatal moment was perhaps approaching, when some licentious youth³⁶, or some jealous tyrant, would abuse, to the destruction, that absolute power³⁶ which they had exerted for the benefit of their people³⁶. The ideal restraints of the senate and the laws might serve to display the virtues, but could never correct the vices, of the emperor³⁶. The military force was a blind and irresistible instrument of oppression; and the corruption of Roman³⁶ manners would always supply flatterers eager to applaud, and ministers prepared to serve, the fear or the avarice, the lust or the cruelty, of their masters.

These gloomy apprehensions had been already justified by the experience of the Romans⁶. The annals of the emperors⁶ exhibit a strong and various⁶ picture of human⁶ nature⁶, which we should vainly seek among the mixed and doubtful characters of modern history. In the conduct of those monarchs we may trace the utmost lines of vice and virtue⁶; the most exalted perfection and the meanest degeneracy of our own species. The golden age⁶ of Trajan and the Antonines had been preceded by an age⁶ of iron. It is almost superfluous to enumerate the unworthy successors of Augustus⁶. Their unparalleled vices, and the splendid theatre on which they were acted, have saved them from oblivion. The dark unrelenting Tiberius, the furious Caligula, the stupid Claudius, the profligate and cruel Nero, the beastly Vitellius, and the timid inhuman Domitian are condemned to everlasting infamy. During fourscore years (excepting only the short and doubtful respite of Vespasian's reign⁶), Rome⁶ groaned beneath an unremitting tyranny, which exterminated the ancient⁶ families of the republic, and was fatal to almost every virtue⁶ and every talent that arose in that unhappy period.

Under the reign²⁹ of these monsters the slavery of the Romans²⁹ was accompanied with two peculiar circumstances, the one occasioned by their former liberty, the other by their extensive conquests, which rendered²⁹ their condition more wretched than that of the victims of tyranny in any other age²⁹ or country²⁹. From these causes were derived, 1. The exquisite sensibility of the sufferers; and 2. The impossibility of escaping from the hand of the oppressor.

I. When Persia was governed by the descendants of Sefi, a race of princes³⁸ whose wanton cruelty often stained their divan, their table, and their bed with the blood of their favourites, there is a saying recorded of a young nobleman, that he never departed from the sultan's presence without satisfying himself whether his head was still on his shoulders. The experience of every day might almost justify the scepticism of Rustan. Yet the fatal sword³⁸, suspended above him by a single thread, seems not to have disturbed the slumbers, or interrupted the tranquillity, of the Persian. The monarch's frown, he well knew, could level him with the dust; but the stroke of lightning or apoplexy might be equally fatal; and it was the part of a wise man to forget the inevitable calamities of human life in the enjoyment of the fleeting hour. He was dignified with the appellation of the king³⁸'s slave; had, perhaps, been purchased from obscure parents, in a country which he had never known; and was trained up from his infancy in the severe discipline of the seraglio. His name, his wealth, his honours, were the gift of a master, who might, without injustice, resume what he had bestowed. Rustan's knowledge, if he possessed any, could only serve to confirm his habits by prejudices. His language afforded not words for any form of government, except absolute monarchy. The history of the East informed him that such had ever been the condition of mankind. The Koran, and the interpreters of that divine book, inculcated to him that the sultan was the descendant of the prophet, and the vicegerent of heaven; that patience was the first virtue of a Mussulman, and unlimited obedience the great³⁸ duty of a subject.

The minds of the Romans⁴¹ were very differently prepared for slavery. Oppressed⁴¹ beneath the weight of their own corruption and of military violence, they for a long while preserved the sentiments, or at least the ideas, of their free⁴¹-born ancestors. The education of Helvidius and Thrasea, of Tacitus and Pliny, was the same as that of Cato and Cicero. From Grecian philosophy they had imbibed the justest and most liberal notions of the dignity of human nature and the origin of civil society. The history of their own country had taught them to revere a free⁴¹, a virtuous, and a victorious commonwealth; to abhor the successful crimes of Caesar and Augustus; and inwardly to despise those tyrants whom they adored with the most abject flattery. As magistrates and senators, they were admitted into the great council which had once dictated laws to the earth⁴¹, whose name gave still a sanction to the acts of the monarch, and whose authority was so often prostituted to the vilest purposes of tyranny. Tiberius, and those emperors who adopted his maxims, attempted to disguise their murders by the formalities of justice, and perhaps enjoyed a secret pleasure in rendering the senate⁴¹ their accomplice as well as their victim. By this assembly the last of the Romans⁴¹ were condemned for imaginary crimes and real virtues. Their infamous accusers assumed the language of independent patriots, who arraigned a dangerous citizen before the tribunal of his country; and the public⁴¹ service was rewarded by riches and honours. The servile judges professed to assert the majesty of the commonwealth, violated in the person⁴¹ of its first magistrate, whose clemency they most applauded when they trembled the most at his inexorable and impending cruelty. The tyrant⁴¹ beheld their baseness with just contempt, and encountered their secret sentiments of detestation with sincere and avowed hatred for the whole body of the senate⁴¹.

II. The division of Europe into a number of independent states, connected, however, with each other, by the general⁴⁷ resemblance of religion, language, and manners, is productive of the most beneficial consequences to the liberty of mankind. A modern tyrant⁴⁷, who should find no resistance either in his own breast or in his people⁴⁷, would soon⁴⁷ experience a gentle restraint from the example of his equals, the dread of present censure, the advice of his allies, and the apprehension of his enemies. The object of his displeasure, escaping from the narrow limits of his dominions, would easily obtain, in a happier climate, a secure refuge, a new fortune adequate to his merit⁴⁷, the freedom of complaint, and perhaps the means of revenge. But the empire⁴⁷ of the Romans filled the world, and, when that empire⁴⁷ fell into the hands of a single person⁴⁷, the world became a safe and dreary prison for his enemies. The slave of Imperial⁴⁷ despotism, whether he was condemned to drag his gilded chain in Rome⁴⁷ and the senate⁴⁷, or to wear out a life⁴⁷ of exile on the barren rock of Seriphus, or the frozen banks of the Danube, expected his fate in silent despair. To resist was fatal, and it was impossible to fly. On every side he was encompassed with a vast extent of sea and land, which he could never hope to traverse without being discovered, seized, and restored to his irritated master⁴⁷. Beyond the frontiers, his anxious view could discover nothing, except the ocean, inhospitable deserts, hostile tribes of barbarians, of fierce manners and unknown language, or dependent kings, who would gladly purchase the emperor⁴⁷'s protection by the sacrifice of an obnoxious fugitive. Wherever you are, said Cicero to the exiled Marcellus, remember that you are equally within the power⁴⁷ of the conqueror.

The mildness of Marcus, which the rigid discipline of the Stoics was unable to eradicate, formed, at the same time⁸, the most amiable, and the only defective, part of his character⁸. His excellent understanding was often deceived by the unsuspecting goodness of his heart. Artful men, who study the passions⁸ of princes and conceal their own, approached his person in the disguise of philosophic sanctity, and acquired riches and honours by affecting to despise them. His excessive indulgence to his brother, his wife, and his son, exceeded the bounds of private⁸ virtue⁸, and became a public⁸ injury, by the example and consequences of their vices.

Faustina, the daughter of Pius and the wife of Marcus, has been as much celebrated for her gallantries as for her beauty. The grave simplicity of the philosopher⁸ was ill calculated to engage her wanton levity, or to fix that unbounded passion for variety which often discovered personal merit in the meanest of mankind⁸. The Cupid of the ancients was, in general, a very sensual deity⁸; and the amours of an empress, as they exact on her side the plainest advances, are seldom susceptible of much sentimental delicacy. Marcus was the only man⁸ in the empire⁸ who seemed ignorant or insensible of the irregularities of Faustina; which, according to the prejudices of every age⁸, reflected some disgrace on the injured husband. He promoted several of her lovers to posts of honour and profit, and, during a connection of thirty years, invariably gave her proofs of the most tender confidence, and of a respect which ended not with her life⁸. In his Meditations he thanks the gods⁸, who had bestowed on him a wife so faithful, so gentle, and of such a wonderful simplicity of manners. The obsequious senate, at his earnest request, declared her a goddess. She was represented in her temples⁸, with the attributes of Juno, Venus, and Ceres; and it was decreed that, on the day of their nuptials, the youth of either sex should pay their vows before the altar of their chaste patroness.

The monstrous vices of the son¹³ have cast a shade on the purity of the father¹³'s virtues. It has been objected to Marcus, that he sacrificed the happiness of millions to a fond partiality for a worthless boy; and that he chose a successor in his own family¹³ rather than in the republic. Nothing, however, was neglected by the anxious father¹³, and by the men of virtue¹³ and learning whom he summoned to his assistance, to expand the narrow mind of young¹³ Commodus, to correct his growing vices, and to render him worthy of the throne for which he was designed. But the power of instruction is seldom of much efficacy, except in those happy dispositions where it is almost superfluous. The distasteful lesson of a grave philosopher was, in a moment, obliterated by the whisper of a profligate favourite; and Marcus himself blasted the fruits of this laboured education, by admitting his son¹³, at the age¹³ of fourteen or fifteen, to a full participation of the Imperial¹³ power. He lived but four years¹³ afterwards; but he lived long enough to repent a rash measure, which raised the impetuous youth¹³ above the restraint of reason and authority.

Most of the crimes which disturb the internal peace of society are produced by the restraints which the necessary, but unequal, laws of property have imposed on the appetites of mankind, by confining to a few the possession of those objects that are coveted by many. Of all our passions and appetites, the love of power⁴⁷ is of the most imperious and unsociable nature, since the pride of one man requires the submission of the multitude. In the tumult of civil⁴⁷ discord the laws of society lose their force, and their place is seldom supplied by those of humanity. The ardour of contention, the pride of victory, the despair of success, the memory of past injuries, and the fear of future dangers, all contribute to inflame the mind, and to silence the voice of pity. From such motives almost every page of history has been stained with civil⁴⁷ blood; but these motives will not account for the unprovoked cruelties of Commodus, who had nothing to wish, and everything to enjoy. The beloved son⁴⁷ of Marcus succeeded to his father⁴⁷, amidst the acclamations of the senate⁴⁷ and armies; and when he ascended the throne⁴⁷, the happy youth saw round him neither competitor to remove, nor enemies to punish. In this calm elevated station it was surely natural that he should prefer the love of mankind to their detestation, the mild glories of his five predecessors to the ignominious fate of Nero and Domitian.

Yet Commodus was not, as he has been represented, a tiger born with an insatiate thirst of human blood, and capable, from his infancy, of the most inhuman actions. Nature had formed him of a weak, rather than a wicked, disposition. His simplicity and timidity rendered him the slave of his attendants, who gradually corrupted his mind. His cruelty, which at first obeyed the dictates of others, degenerated into habit, and at length became the ruling passion of his soul.

Upon the death⁴⁷ of his father⁴⁷ Commodus found himself embarrassed with the command⁴⁷ of a great army⁴⁷, and the conduct⁴⁷ of a difficult war⁴⁷ against the Quadi and Marcomanni. The servile and profligate youths whom Marcus had banished soon⁴⁷ regained their station and influence about the new emperor⁴⁷. They exaggerated the hardships and dangers of a campaign in the wild countries beyond the Danube; and they assured the indolent prince⁴⁷ that the terror of his name and the arms⁴⁷ of his lieutenants would be sufficient to complete the conquest of the dismayed barbarians, or to impose such conditions as were more advantageous than any conquest. By a dexterous application to his sensual appetites, they compared the tranquillity, the splendour, the refined pleasures of Rome⁴⁷ with the tumult of a Pannonian camp, which afforded neither leisure nor materials for luxury. Commodus listened to the pleasing advice; but whilst he hesitated between his own inclination and the awe which he still retained for his father⁴⁷'s counsellors, the summer insensibly elapsed, and his triumphal entry into the capital was deferred till the autumn. His graceful person⁴⁷, popular address, and imagined virtues attracted the public⁴⁷ favour; the honourable peace which he had recently granted to the barbarians diffused an universal joy; his impatience to revisit Rome⁴⁷ was fondly ascribed to the love of his country; and his dissolute course of amusements was faintly condemned in a prince⁴⁷ of nineteen years of age⁴⁷.

During the three first years²² of his reign²², the forms, and even the spirit, of the old administration were maintained by those faithful counsellors to whom Marcus had recommended his son²², and for whose wisdom and integrity Commodus still entertained a reluctant esteem. The young prince²² and his profligate favourites revelled in all the licence of sovereign power²²; but his hands²² were yet unstained with blood²²; and he had even displayed a generosity of sentiment, which might perhaps have ripened into solid virtue²². A fatal incident decided his fluctuating character²².

One evening, as the emperor⁴⁷ was returning to the palace⁴⁷ through a dark and narrow portico in the amphitheatre, an assassin, who waited his passage, rushed upon him with a drawn sword, loudly exclaiming, The senate⁴⁷ sends you this. The menace prevented the deed; the assassin was seized by the guards, and immediately revealed the authors of the conspiracy. It had been formed, not in the state, but within the walls of the palace⁴⁷. Lucilla, the emperor⁴⁷'s sister, and widow of Lucius Verus, impatient of the second rank⁴⁷, and jealous of the reigning empress, had armed the murderer against her brother's life⁴⁷. She had not ventured to communicate the black design to her second husband, Claudius Pompeianus, a senator of distinguished merit⁴⁷ and unshaken loyalty; but among the crowd of her lovers (for she imitated the manners of Faustina) she found men of desperate fortunes and wild ambition, who were prepared to serve her more violent as well as her tender passions. The conspirators experienced the rigour of justice⁴⁷, and the abandoned princess was punished, first with exile, and afterwards with death⁴⁷.

But the words of the assassin sunk deep into the mind of Commodus, and left an indelible impression of fear and hatred against the whole body of the senate⁴⁷. Those whom he had dreaded as importunate ministers, he now suspected as secret⁴⁷ enemies. The Delators, a race of men discouraged, and almost extinguished, under the former reigns, again became formidable as soon⁴⁷ as they discovered that the emperor⁴⁷ was desirous of finding disaffection and treason in the senate⁴⁷. That assembly, whom Marcus had ever considered as the great council of the nation, was composed of the most distinguished of the Romans; and distinction of every kind soon⁴⁷ became criminal. The possession of wealth stimulated the diligence of the informers; rigid virtue implied a tacit censure of the irregularities of Commodus; important services implied a dangerous superiority of merit⁴⁷, and the friendship of the father⁴⁷ always insured the aversion of the son⁴⁷. Suspicion was equivalent to proof; trial to condemnation. The execution of a considerable senator was attended with the death⁴⁷ of all who might lament or revenge his fate; and when Commodus had once tasted human blood, he became incapable of pity or remorse.

Of these innocent victims of tyranny, none died more lamented than the two brothers of the Quintilian family, Maximus and Condianus, whose fraternal love has saved their names from oblivion, and endeared their memory to posterity. Their studies and their occupations, their pursuits and their pleasures, were still the same. In the enjoyment of a great estate, they never admitted the idea of a separate interest: some fragments are now extant of a treatise which they composed in common; and in every action of life⁸ it was observed that their two bodies were animated by one soul. The Antonines, who valued their virtues and delighted in their union, raised them, in the same year, to the consulship; and Marcus afterwards entrusted to their joint care the civil administration of Greece, and a great military command, in which they obtained a signal victory over the Germans. The kind cruelty of Commodus united them in death⁸.

The tyrant⁴⁷'s rage, after having shed the noblest blood of the senate⁴⁷, at length recoiled on the principal instrument of his cruelty. Whilst Commodus was immersed in blood and luxury, he devolved the detail of the public⁴⁷ business on Perennis; a servile and ambitious minister, who had obtained his post by the murder of his predecessor, but who possessed a considerable share of vigour and ability. By acts of extortion, and the forfeited estates of the nobles sacrificed to his avarice, he had accumulated an immense treasure. The Praetorian guards were under his immediate command⁴⁷; and his son⁴⁷, who already discovered a military⁴⁷ genius, was at the head of the Illyrian legions. Perennis aspired to the empire⁴⁷; or what, in the eyes of Commodus, amounted to the same crime, he was capable of aspiring to it, had he not been prevented, surprised, and put to death⁴⁷. The fall of a minister is a very trifling incident in the general⁴⁷ history of the empire⁴⁷; but it was hastened by an extraordinary circumstance, which proved how much the nerves of discipline were already relaxed. The legions of Britain, discontented with the administration of Perennis, formed a deputation of fifteen hundred select men, with instructions to march to Rome⁴⁷ and lay their complaints before the emperor⁴⁷. These military⁴⁷ petitioners, by their own determined behaviour, by inflaming the divisions of the guards, by exaggerating the strength of the British army⁴⁷, and by alarming the fears of Commodus, exacted and obtained the minister's death⁴⁷, as the only redress of their grievances. This presumption of a distant army⁴⁷, and their discovery of the weakness of government⁴⁷, was a sure presage of the most dreadful convulsions.

The negligence of the public¹² administration was betrayed soon¹² afterwards by a new¹² disorder, which arose from the smallest beginnings. A spirit¹² of desertion began to prevail among the troops, and the deserters, instead of seeking their safety¹² in flight or concealment, infested the highways. Maternus, a private soldier, of a daring boldness above his station, collected these bands of robbers into a little army¹², set open the prisons, invited the slaves to assert their freedom¹², and plundered with impunity the rich and defenceless cities of Gaul¹² and Spain. The governors of the provinces, who had long been the spectators, and perhaps the partners, of his depredations, were, at length, roused from their supine indolence by the threatening commands of the emperor¹². Maternus found that he was encompassed, and foresaw that he must be overpowered. A great¹² effort of despair was his last resource. He ordered his followers to disperse, to pass the Alps in small parties and various disguises, and to assemble at Rome¹², during the licentious tumult of the festival of Cybele. To murder Commodus, and to ascend the vacant throne, was the ambition of no vulgar robber. His measures were so ably concerted that his concealed troops already filled the streets of Rome¹². The envy of an accomplice discovered and ruined this singular enterprise in the moment¹² when it was ripe for execution.

Suspicious princes often promote the last of mankind, from a vain persuasion that those who have no dependence except on their favour will have no attachment except to the person⁴⁷ of their benefactor. Cleander, the successor of Perennis, was a Phrygian by birth; of a nation, over whose stubborn but servile temper blows only could prevail. He had been sent from his native country to Rome⁴⁷ in the capacity of a slave. As a slave he entered the imperial⁴⁷ palace⁴⁷, rendered himself useful to his master⁴⁷'s passions, and rapidly ascended to the most exalted station which a subject could enjoy. His influence over the mind of Commodus was much greater than that of his predecessor; for Cleander was devoid of any ability or virtue which could inspire the emperor⁴⁷ with envy or distrust. Avarice was the reigning passion of his soul, and the great principle of his administration. The rank⁴⁷ of consul, of Patrician, of senator, was exposed to public⁴⁷ sale; and it would have been considered as disaffection if any one had refused to purchase these empty and disgraceful honours with the greatest part of his fortune. In the lucrative provincial employments the minister shared with the governor the spoils of the people⁴⁷. The execution of the laws was venal and arbitrary. A wealthy criminal might obtain not only the reversal of the sentence by which he was justly condemned; but might likewise inflict whatever punishment he pleased on the accuser, the witnesses, and the judge.

By these means Cleander, in the space of three years²², had accumulated more wealth than had ever yet been possessed by any freedman. Commodus was perfectly satisfied with the magnificent presents which the artful courtier laid at his feet in the most seasonable moments. To divert the public²² envy, Cleander, under the emperor²²'s name, erected baths, porticos, and places of exercise²², for the use of the people²². He flattered himself that the Romans, dazzled and amused by this apparent liberality, would be less affected by the bloody scenes which were daily exhibited; that they would forget the death²² of Byrrhus, a senator to whose superior merit²² the late emperor²² had granted one of his daughters; and that they would forgive the execution of Arrius Antoninus, the last representative of the name and virtues²² of the Antonines. The former, with more integrity than prudence²², had attempted to disclose to his brother-in-law the true character²² of Cleander. An equitable sentence pronounced by the latter, when proconsul of Asia, against a worthless creature of the favourite, proved fatal to him. After the fall of Perennis the terrors of Commodus had, for a short time²², assumed the appearance of a return to virtue²². He repealed the most odious of his acts, loaded his memory with the public²² execration, and ascribed to the pernicious counsels of that wicked minister all the errors of his inexperienced youth. But his repentance lasted only thirty days; and, under Cleander's tyranny, the administration of Perennis was often regretted.

Pestilence and famine contributed to fill up the measure of the calamities of Rome⁴⁷. The first could only be imputed to the just indignation of the gods; but a monopoly of corn, supported by the riches and power⁴⁷ of the minister, was considered as the immediate cause of the second. The popular discontent, after it had long⁴⁷ circulated in whispers, broke out in the assembled circus. The people⁴⁷ quitted their favourite amusements for the more delicious pleasure of revenge, rushed in crowds towards a palace⁴⁷ in the suburbs, one of the emperor⁴⁷'s retirements, and demanded, with angry clamours, the head of the public⁴⁷ enemy. Cleander, who commanded the Praetorian guards, ordered a body of cavalry to sally forth and disperse the seditious multitude. The multitude fled with precipitation towards the city⁴⁷; several were slain, and many more were trampled to death⁴⁷; but, when the cavalry entered the streets their pursuit was checked by a shower of stones and darts from the roofs and windows of the houses. The foot guards, who had been long⁴⁷ jealous of the prerogatives and insolence of the Praetorian cavalry, embraced the party of the people⁴⁷. The tumult became a regular engagement, and threatened a general⁴⁷ massacre. The Praetorians at length gave way, oppressed with numbers; and the tide of popular fury returned with redoubled violence against the gates of the palace⁴⁷, where Commodus lay dissolved in luxury, and alone unconscious of the civil⁴⁷ war⁴⁷. It was death⁴⁷ to approach his person⁴⁷ with the unwelcome news. He would have perished in this supine security had not two women, his eldest sister Fadilla, and Marcia the most favoured of his concubines, ventured to break into his presence. Bathed in tears, and with dishevelled hair, they threw themselves at his feet, and, with all the pressing eloquence of fear, discovered to the affrighted emperor⁴⁷ the crimes of the minister, the rage of the people⁴⁷, and the impending ruin which in a few minutes would burst over his palace⁴⁷ and person⁴⁷. Commodus started from his dream of pleasure, and commanded that the head of Cleander should be thrown out to the people⁴⁷. The desired spectacle instantly appeased the tumult; and the son⁴⁷ of Marcus might even yet have regained the affection and confidence of his subjects.

But every sentiment of virtue and humanity was extinct in the mind of Commodus. Whilst he thus abandoned the reins of empire¹⁹ to these unworthy favourites, he valued nothing in sovereign power except the unbounded licence of indulging his sensual appetites. His hours were spent in a seraglio of three hundred beautiful women and as many boys, of every rank and of every province¹⁹; and, wherever the arts of seduction proved ineffectual, the brutal lover had recourse to violence. The ancient historians have expatiated on these abandoned scenes of prostitution, which scorned every restraint of nature¹⁹ or modesty; but it would not be easy to translate their too faithful descriptions into the decency of modern language. The intervals of lust were filled up with the basest amusements. The influence of a polite age¹⁹ and the labour of an attentive education had never been able to infuse into his rude and brutish mind the least tincture of learning; and he was the first of the Roman¹⁹ emperors totally devoid of taste for the pleasures of the understanding. Nero himself excelled, or affected to excel, in the elegant arts of music and poetry; nor should we despise his pursuits, had he not converted the pleasing relaxation of a leisure hour into the serious business and ambition of his life¹⁹. But Commodus, from his earliest infancy, discovered an aversion to whatever was rational or liberal, and a fond attachment to the amusements of the populace, — the sports of the circus and amphitheatre, the combats of gladiators, and the hunting of wild beasts. The masters in every branch of learning, whom Marcus provided for his son, were heard with inattention and disgust; whilst the Moors and Parthians, who taught him to dart the javelin and to shoot with the bow, found a disciple who delighted in his application, and soon¹⁹ equalled the most skilful of his instructors in the steadiness of the eye and the dexterity of the hand¹⁹.

The servile crowd, whose fortune depended on their master's vices, applauded these ignoble pursuits. The perfidious voice of flattery reminded him that, by exploits of the same nature, by the defeat of the Nemean lion, and the slaughter of the wild boar of Erymanthus, the Grecian Hercules had acquired a place among the gods, and an immortal memory among men⁹. They only forgot to observe that, in the first ages of society, when the fiercer animals often dispute with man the possession of an unsettled country⁹, a successful war⁹ against those savages is one of the most innocent and beneficial labours of heroism. In the civilised state of the Roman⁹ empire⁹ the wild beasts had long⁹ since retired from the face of man and the neighbourhood of populous cities⁹. To surprise them in their solitary haunts, and to transport them to Rome⁹, that they might be slain in pomp by the hand of an emperor, was an enterprise equally ridiculous for the prince and oppressive for the people. Ignorant of these distinctions, Commodus eagerly embraced the glorious resemblance, and styled himself (as we still read on his medals) the Roman⁹ Hercules. The club and the lion's hide were placed by the side of the throne amongst the ensigns of sovereignty; and statues were erected, in which Commodus was represented in the character and with the attributes of the God whose valour⁹ and dexterity he endeavoured to emulate in the daily course of his ferocious amusements.

Elated with these praises, which gradually extinguished the innate sense of shame, Commodus resolved to exhibit, before the eyes of the Roman⁴⁷ people⁴⁷, those exercises which till then he had decently confined within the walls of his palace⁴⁷ and to the presence of a few favourites. On the appointed day the various motives of flattery, fear, and curiosity attracted to the amphitheatre an innumerable multitude of spectators; and some degree of applause was deservedly bestowed on the uncommon skill of the Imperial⁴⁷ performer. Whether he aimed at the head or heart of the animal, the wound was alike certain and mortal. With arrows, whose point was shaped into the form of a crescent, Commodus often intercepted the rapid career and cut asunder the long⁴⁷ bony neck of the ostrich. A panther was let loose; and the archer waited till he had leaped upon a trembling malefactor. In the same instant the shaft flew, the beast dropt dead, and the man remained unhurt. The dens of the amphitheatre disgorged at once a hundred lions; a hundred darts from the unerring hand of Commodus laid them dead as they ran raging round the Arena. Neither the huge bulk of the elephant nor the scaly hide of the rhinoceros could defend them from his stroke. Aethiopia and India yielded their most extraordinary productions; and several animals were slain in the amphitheatre which had been seen only in the representations of art, or perhaps of fancy. In all these exhibitions, the surest precautions were used to protect the person⁴⁷ of the Roman⁴⁷ Hercules from the desperate spring of any savage who might possibly disregard the dignity of the emperor⁴⁷ and the sanctity of the god.

But the meanest of the populace were affected with shame and indignation, when they beheld their sovereign enter the lists as a gladiator, and glory in a profession which the laws⁸ and manners of the Romans had branded with the justest note of infamy. He chose the habit and arms of the Secutor, whose combat with the Retiarius formed one of the most lively scenes in the bloody sports of the amphitheatre. The Secutor was armed with an helmet, sword, and buckler; his naked antagonist had only a large net and a trident; with the one he endeavoured to entangle, with the other to despatch, his enemy. If he missed the first throw he was obliged to fly from the pursuit of the Secutor till he had prepared his net for a second cast. The emperor fought in this character⁸ seven hundred and thirty-five several times. These glorious achievements were carefully recorded in the public⁸ acts of the empire⁸; and, that he might omit no circumstance of infamy, he received from the common fund of gladiators a stipend so exorbitant that it became a new and most ignominious tax upon the Roman people. It may be easily supposed that in these engagements the master of the world⁸ was always successful: in the amphitheatre his victories were not often sanguinary; but when he exercised his skill in the school of gladiators, or his own palace, his wretched antagonists were frequently honoured with a mortal wound from the hand of Commodus, and obliged to seal their flattery with their blood. He now disdained the appellation of Hercules. The name of Paulus, a celebrated Secutor, was the only one which delighted his ear. It was inscribed on his colossal statues, and repeated in the redoubled acclamations of the mournful and applauding senate. Claudius Pompeianus, the virtuous husband of Lucilla, was the only senator who asserted the honour of his rank. As a father he permitted his sons to consult their safety by attending the amphitheatre. As a Roman be declared that his own life⁸ was in the emperor's hands, but that he would never behold the son of Marcus prostituting his person and dignity. Notwithstanding his manly resolution, Pompeianus escaped the resentment of the tyrant, and, with his honour, had the good fortune to preserve his life⁸.

Commodus had now attained the summit of vice and infamy. Amidst the acclamations of a flattering court³⁴, he was unable to disguise from himself that he had deserved the contempt and hatred of every man of sense and virtue in his empire³⁴. His ferocious spirit was irritated by the consciousness of that hatred, by the envy of every kind of merit, by the just³⁴ apprehension of danger, and by the habit of slaughter which he contracted in his daily amusements. History has preserved a long³⁴ list of consular senators sacrificed to his wanton suspicion, which sought out, with peculiar anxiety, those unfortunate persons connected, however remotely, with the family of the Antonines, without sparing even the ministers of his crimes or pleasures. His cruelty proved at last fatal to himself. He had shed with impunity the noblest blood of Rome: he perished as soon as he was dreaded by his own domestics. Marcia, his favourite concubine, Eclectus, his chamberlain, and Laetus, his Praetorian prefect, alarmed by the fate of their companions and predecessors, resolved to prevent the destruction which every hour hung over their heads, either from the mad caprice of the tyrant, or the sudden indignation of the people. Marcia seized the occasion of presenting a draught of wine to her lover, after he had fatigued himself with hunting some wild beasts. Commodus retired to sleep; but whilst he was labouring with the effects of poison and drunkenness, a robust youth³⁴, by profession a wrestler, entered his chamber, and strangled him without resistance. The body was secretly conveyed out of the palace, before the least suspicion was entertained in the city, or even in the court³⁴, of the emperor³⁴'s death. Such was the fate of the son of Marcus, and so easy was it to destroy a hated tyrant, who, by the artificial powers of government, had oppressed, during thirteen years³⁴, so many millions of subjects, every one of whom was equal to their master in personal strength and personal abilities.

The measures of the conspirators were conducted with the deliberate coolness and celerity which the greatness of the occasion required. They resolved instantly to fill the vacant throne⁴⁷ with an emperor⁴⁷ whose character would justify and maintain the action that had been committed. They fixed on Pertinax, prefect⁴⁷ of the city⁴⁷, an ancient senator of consular rank⁴⁷, whose conspicuous merit⁴⁷ had broken through the obscurity of his birth, and raised him to the first honours of the state. He had successively governed most of the provinces⁴⁷ of the empire⁴⁷; and in all his great employments, military⁴⁷ as well as civil⁴⁷, he had uniformly distinguished himself, by the firmness, the prudence, and the integrity of his conduct⁴⁷. He now remained almost alone of the friends and ministers of Marcus; and, when, at a late hour of the night, he was awakened with the news that the chamberlain and the prefect⁴⁷ were at his door, he received them with intrepid resignation, and desired they would execute their master⁴⁷'s orders. Instead of death⁴⁷, they offered him the throne⁴⁷ of the Roman⁴⁷ world. During some moments he distrusted their intentions and assurances. Convinced at length of the death⁴⁷ of Commodus, he accepted the purple with a sincere reluctance, the natural effect of his knowledge both of the duties and of the dangers of the supreme rank⁴⁷.

Laetus conducted without delay his new emperor⁴⁷ to the camp of the Praetorians, diffusing at the same time through the city⁴⁷ a seasonable report that Commodus died suddenly of an apoplexy; and that the virtuous Pertinax had already succeeded to the throne⁴⁷. The guards were rather surprised than pleased with the suspicious death⁴⁷ of a prince⁴⁷ whose indulgence and liberality they alone had experienced; but the emergency of the occasion, the authority⁴⁷ of their prefect⁴⁷, the reputation of Pertinax, and the clamours of the people⁴⁷ obliged them to stifle their secret⁴⁷ discontents, to accept the donative promised by the new emperor⁴⁷, to swear allegiance to him, and, with joyful acclamations and laurels in their hands, to conduct⁴⁷ him to the senate⁴⁷-house, that the military⁴⁷ consent might be ratified by the civil⁴⁷ authority⁴⁷.

This important night was now far spent; with the dawn of day, and the commencement of the new⁴⁵ year, the senators expected a summons to attend an ignominious ceremony. In spite of all remonstrances, even of those of his creatures who yet preserved any regard for prudence or decency, Commodus had resolved to pass the night in the gladiators' school, and from thence to take possession of the consulship, in the habit and with the attendance of that infamous crew. On a sudden, before the break of day, the senate was called together in the temple of Concord, to meet the guards, and to ratify the election of a new⁴⁵ emperor⁴⁵. For a few minutes they sat in silent suspense, doubtful of their unexpected deliverance, and suspicious of the cruel artifices of Commodus: but, when at length they were assured that the tyrant⁴⁵ was no more, they resigned themselves to all the transports of joy and indignation. Pertinax, who modestly represented the meanness of his extraction, and pointed out several noble senators more deserving than himself of the empire⁴⁵, was constrained by their dutiful violence to ascend the throne⁴⁵, and received⁴⁵ all the titles of Imperial power⁴⁵, confirmed by the most sincere vows of fidelity. The memory of Commodus was branded with eternal infamy. The names of tyrant⁴⁵, of gladiator, of public⁴⁵ enemy, resounded in every corner of the house. They decreed in tumultuous votes, that his honours should be reversed, his titles erased from the public⁴⁵ monuments, his statues thrown down, his body dragged with a hook into the stripping-room of the gladiators, to satiate the public⁴⁵ fury; and they expressed some indignation against those officious servants who had already presumed to screen his remains from the justice⁴⁵ of the senate. But Pertinax could not refuse those last rites to the memory of Marcus and the tears of his first protector Claudius Pompeianus, who lamented the cruel fate of his brother⁴⁵-in-law, and lamented still more that he had deserved it.

These effusions of impotent rage against a dead emperor⁴⁷, whom the senate⁴⁷ had flattered when alive with the most abject servility, betrayed a just but ungenerous spirit⁴⁷ of revenge. The legality of these decrees was, however, supported by the principles of the Imperial⁴⁷ constitution. To censure, to depose, or to punish with death⁴⁷, the first magistrate of the republic who had abused his delegated trust, was the ancient and undoubted prerogative of the Roman⁴⁷ senate⁴⁷; but that feeble assembly was obliged to content itself with inflicting on a fallen tyrant⁴⁷ that public⁴⁷ justice⁴⁷ from which, during his life⁴⁷ and reign⁴⁷, he had been shielded by the strong arm of military⁴⁷ despotism.

Pertinax found a nobler way of condemning his predecessor's memory, — by the contrast of his own virtues with the vices of Commodus. On the day of his accession he resigned over to his wife and son⁴⁷ his whole private⁴⁷ fortune; that they might have no pretence to solicit favours at the expense of the state. He refused to flatter the vanity of the former with the title of Augusta, or to corrupt the inexperienced youth of the latter by the rank⁴⁷ of Caesar. Accurately distinguishing between the duties of a parent and those of a sovereign⁴⁷, he educated his son⁴⁷ with a severe simplicity, which, while it gave him no assured prospect of the throne⁴⁷, might in time have rendered him worthy of it. In public⁴⁷ the behaviour of Pertinax was grave and affable. He lived with the virtuous part of the senate⁴⁷ (and, in a private⁴⁷ station, he had been acquainted with the true character of each individual), without either pride or jealousy; considered them as friends and companions, with whom he had shared the dangers of the tyranny, and with whom he wished to enjoy the security of the present time. He very frequently invited them to familiar entertainments, the frugality of which was ridiculed by those who remembered and regretted the luxurious prodigality of Commodus.

To heal, as far as it was possible, the wounds inflicted by the hand⁴⁴ of tyranny, was the pleasing, but melancholy, task of Pertinax. The innocent victims who yet survived were recalled from exile, released from prison, and restored to the full possession of their honours and fortunes. The unburied bodies of murdered senators (for the cruelty of Commodus endeavoured to extend itself beyond death) were deposited in the sepulchres of their ancestors; their memory was justified; and every consolation was bestowed on their ruined and afflicted families. Among these consolations, one of the most grateful was the punishment of the Delators, the common⁴⁴ enemies⁴⁴ of their master, of virtue, and of their country⁴⁴. Yet, even in the inquisition of these legal assassins, Pertinax proceeded with a steady temper, which gave everything to justice, and nothing to popular prejudice and resentment.

The finances of the state¹⁶ demanded the most vigilant care of the emperor¹⁶. Though every measure¹⁶ of injustice and extortion¹⁶ had been adopted which could collect the property of the subject into the coffers of the prince, the rapaciousness of Commodus had been so very inadequate to his extravagance that, upon his death¹⁶, no more than eight thousand pounds were found in the exhausted treasury, to defray the current expenses of government¹⁶, and to discharge the pressing demand of a liberal donative, which the new¹⁶ emperor¹⁶ had been obliged to promise to the Praetorian guards. Yet, under these distressed circumstances, Pertinax had the generous firmness to remit all the oppressive taxes invented by Commodus, and to cancel all the unjust claims of the treasury; declaring, in a decree of the senate, that he was better satisfied to administer a poor republic with innocence¹⁶, than to acquire riches by the ways of tyranny and dishonour. Economy and industry he considered as the pure and genuine sources of wealth¹⁶; and from them he soon derived a copious supply for the public¹⁶ necessities. The expense of the household was immediately reduced to one half. All the instruments of luxury¹⁶ Pertinax exposed to public¹⁶ auction, gold and silver plate, chariots of a singular construction, a superfluous wardrobe of silk and embroidery, and a great number of beautiful slaves of both sexes; excepting only, with attentive¹⁶ humanity, those who were born in a state¹⁶ of freedom, and had been ravished from the arms of their weeping parents. At the same time that he obliged the worthless favourites of the tyrant¹⁶ to resign a part of their ill-gotten wealth¹⁶, he satisfied the just¹⁶ creditors of the state¹⁶, and unexpectedly discharged the long¹⁶ arrears of honest services. He removed the oppressive restrictions which had been laid upon commerce, and granted¹⁶ all the uncultivated lands in Italy and the provinces to those who would improve them; with an exemption from tribute during the term of ten years.

Such an uniform conduct⁴⁷ had already secured to Pertinax the noblest reward of a sovereign⁴⁷, the love and esteem of his people⁴⁷. Those who remembered the virtues of Marcus were happy to contemplate in their new emperor⁴⁷ the features of that bright original, and flattered themselves that they should long⁴⁷ enjoy the benign influence of his administration. A hasty zeal to reform the corrupted state, accompanied with less prudence than might have been expected from the years and experience of Pertinax, proved fatal to himself and to his country. His honest indiscretion united against him the servile crowd, who found their private⁴⁷ benefit in the public⁴⁷ disorders, and who preferred the favour of a tyrant⁴⁷ to the inexorable equality of the laws.

Amidst the general⁴⁷ joy the sullen and angry countenance of the Praetorian guards betrayed their inward dissatisfaction. They had reluctantly submitted to Pertinax; they dreaded the strictness of the ancient discipline, which he was preparing to restore; and they regretted the licence of the former reign⁴⁷. Their discontents were secretly fomented by Laetus, their prefect⁴⁷, who found, when it was too late, that his new emperor⁴⁷ would reward a servant, but would not be ruled by a favourite. On the third day of his reign⁴⁷, the soldiers⁴⁷ seized on a noble senator, with a design to carry him to the camp, and to invest him with the imperial⁴⁷ purple. Instead of being dazzled by the dangerous honour, the affrighted victim escaped from their violence, and took refuge at the feet of Pertinax. A short time afterwards Sosius Falco, one of the consuls of the year, a rash youth, but of an ancient and opulent family, listened to the voice of ambition; and a conspiracy was formed during a short absence of Pertinax, which was crushed by his sudden return to Rome⁴⁷ and his resolute behaviour. Falco was on the point of being justly condemned to death⁴⁷ as a public⁴⁷ enemy, had he not been saved by the earnest and sincere entreaties of the injured emperor⁴⁷; who conjured the senate⁴⁷ that the purity of his reign⁴⁷ might not be stained by the blood even of a guilty senator.

These disappointments served only to irritate the rage of the Praetorian guards. On the twenty-eighth of March, eighty-six days only after the death⁴⁷ of Commodus, a general⁴⁷ sedition broke out in the camp, which the officers wanted either power⁴⁷ or inclination to suppress. Two or three hundred of the most desperate soldiers⁴⁷ marched at noon-day, with arms⁴⁷ in their hands and fury in their looks, towards the Imperial⁴⁷ palace⁴⁷. The gates were thrown open by their companions upon guard; and by the domestics of the old court, who had already formed a secret⁴⁷ conspiracy against the life⁴⁷ of the too virtuous emperor⁴⁷. On the news of their approach, Pertinax, disdaining either flight or concealment, advanced to meet his assassins; and recalled to their minds his own innocence, and the sanctity of their recent oath. For a few moments they stood in silent suspense, ashamed of their atrocious design, and awed by the venerable aspect and majestic firmness of their sovereign⁴⁷, till at length, the despair of pardon reviving their fury, a barbarian of the country of Tongres levelled the first blow against Pertinax, who was instantly despatched with a multitude of wounds. His head, separated from his body, and placed on a lance, was carried in triumph to the Praetorian camp, in the sight of a mournful and indignant people⁴⁷, who lamented the unworthy fate of that excellent prince⁴⁷, and the transient blessings of a reign⁴⁷, the memory of which could serve only to aggravate their approaching misfortunes.

The power⁴⁰ of the sword is more sensibly felt in an extensive monarchy than in a small⁴⁰ community. It has been calculated by the ablest politicians that no state, without being soon⁴⁰ exhausted, can maintain above the hundredth part of its members in arms and idleness. But, although this relative proportion may be uniform, its influence over the rest of the society will vary according to the degree of its positive strength. The advantages of military⁴⁰ science and discipline cannot be exerted, unless a proper number⁴⁰ of soldiers are united into one body, and actuated by one soul. With a handful of men, such an union would be ineffectual; with an unwieldy host, it would be impracticable; and the powers of the machine would be alike destroyed by the extreme minuteness, or the excessive weight, of its springs. To illustrate this observation we need only reflect that there is no superiority of natural strength, artificial weapons, or acquired skill, which could enable one man to keep in constant subjection one hundred of his fellow-creatures: the tyrant of a single town, or a small⁴⁰ district, would soon⁴⁰ discover that an hundred armed followers were a weak defence against ten thousand⁴⁰ peasants or citizens⁴⁰; but an hundred thousand⁴⁰ well-disciplined soldiers will command⁴⁰, with despotic sway, ten millions⁴⁰ of subjects⁴⁰; and a body of ten or fifteen thousand⁴⁰ guards will strike terror into the most numerous populace that ever crowded the streets of an immense capital⁴⁰.

The Praetorian bands, whose licentious fury was the first symptom and cause of the decline of the Roman⁴⁷ empire⁴⁷, scarcely amounted to the last mentioned number. They derived their institution from Augustus. That crafty tyrant⁴⁷, sensible that laws might colour, but that arms⁴⁷ alone could maintain, his usurped dominion, had gradually formed this powerful body of guards, in constant readiness to protect his person⁴⁷, to awe the senate⁴⁷, and either to prevent or to crush the first motions of rebellion. He distinguished these favoured troops⁴⁷ by a double pay, and superior privileges; but, as their formidable aspect would at once have alarmed and irritated the Roman⁴⁷ people⁴⁷, three cohorts only were stationed in the capital; whilst the remainder was dispersed in the adjacent towns of Italy⁴⁷. But after fifty years of peace and servitude, Tiberius ventured on a decisive measure, which for ever riveted the fetters of his country. Under the fair pretences of relieving Italy⁴⁷ from the heavy burden of military⁴⁷ quarters, and of introducing a stricter discipline among the guards, he assembled them at Rome⁴⁷, in a permanent camp, which was fortified with skilful care, and placed on a commanding situation.

Such formidable⁴¹ servants are always necessary, but often fatal, to the throne⁴¹ of despotism. By thus introducing the Praetorian guards, as it were, into the palace⁴¹ and the senate⁴¹, the emperors taught them to perceive their own strength, and the weakness of the civil government; to view the vices of their masters with familiar contempt, and to lay aside that reverential awe which distance only, and mystery, can preserve towards an imaginary power⁴¹. In the luxurious idleness of an opulent city⁴¹, their pride was nourished by the sense of their irresistible weight; nor was it possible to conceal from them that the person⁴¹ of the sovereign⁴¹, the authority of the senate⁴¹, the public⁴¹ treasure, and the seat of empire⁴¹, were all in their hands. To divert the Praetorian bands from these dangerous reflections the firmest and best established princes were obliged to mix blandishments with commands, rewards with punishments, to flatter their pride, indulge their pleasures, connive at their irregularities, and to purchase their precarious faith by a liberal donative; which, since the elevation of Claudius, was exacted as a legal claim on the accession of every new emperor⁴¹.

The advocates of the guards endeavoured to justify by arguments the power which they asserted by arms; and to maintain that, according to the purest principles of the constitution, their consent was essentially necessary in the appointment of an emperor. The election of consuls, of generals, and of magistrates, however it had been recently usurped by the senate³², was the ancient³² and undoubted right of the Roman³² people³². But where was the Roman³² people³² to be found? Not surely amongst the mixed multitude of slaves and strangers that filled the streets of Rome³²; a servile populace, as devoid of spirit as destitute of property. The defenders of the state³², selected from the flower of Italian youth, and trained in the exercise of arms and virtue, were the genuine representatives of the people³², and the best entitled to elect the military chief of the republic. These assertions, however defective in reason, became unanswerable, when the fierce Praetorians increased their weight, by throwing, like the barbarian conqueror of Rome³², their swords into the scale.

The Praetorians had violated the sanctity of the throne⁴⁷, by the atrocious murder of Pertinax; they dishonoured the majesty of it, by their subsequent conduct⁴⁷. The camp was without a leader, for even the prefect⁴⁷ Laetus, who had excited the tempest, prudently declined the public⁴⁷ indignation. Amidst the wild disorder, Sulpicianus, the emperor⁴⁷'s father⁴⁷-in-law, and governor of the city⁴⁷, who had been sent to the camp on the first alarm of mutiny, was endeavouring to calm the fury of the multitude, when he was silenced by the clamorous return of the murderers, bearing on a lance the head of Pertinax. Though history has accustomed us to observe every principle and every passion yielding to the imperious dictates of ambition, it is scarcely credible that, in these moments of horror, Sulpicianus should have aspired to ascend a throne⁴⁷ polluted with the recent blood of so near a relation, and so excellent a prince⁴⁷. He had already begun to use the only effectual argument, and to treat for the Imperial⁴⁷ dignity; but the more prudent of the Praetorians, apprehensive that, in this private⁴⁷ contract, they should not obtain a just price for so valuable a commodity, ran out upon the ramparts; and, with a loud voice, proclaimed that the Roman⁴⁷ world was to be disposed of to the best bidder by public⁴⁷ auction.

This infamous offer, the most insolent excess of military³ licence, diffused an universal grief, shame, and indignation throughout the city³. It reached at length the ears of Didius Julianus, a wealthy senator, who, regardless of the public calamities, was indulging himself in the luxury of the table. His wife and his daughter, his freedmen and his parasites, easily convinced him that he deserved the throne³, and earnestly conjured him to embrace so fortunate an opportunity. The vain old man hastened to the Praetorian camp³, where Sulpicianus was still in treaty³ with the guards; and began to bid against him from the foot of the rampart. The unworthy negotiation was transacted by faithful emissaries, who passed alternately from one candidate to the other, and acquainted each of them with the offers of his rival. Sulpicianus had already promised a donative of five thousand³ drachms (above one hundred and sixty pounds) to each soldier; when Julian³, eager for the prize, rose at once to the sum of six thousand³ two hundred and fifty drachms, or upwards of two hundred pounds sterling. The gates of the camp³ were instantly thrown open to the purchaser; he was declared emperor³, and received an oath of allegiance from the soldiers, who retained humanity enough to stipulate that he should pardon and forget the competition of Sulpicianus.

It was now incumbent on the Praetorians to fulfil the conditions of the sale. They placed their new sovereign, whom they served and despised, in the centre of their ranks²⁶, surrounded him on every side with their shields, and conducted him in close order²⁶ of battle through the deserted streets of the city. The senate²⁶ was commanded to assemble, and those who had been the distinguished friends of Pertinax, or the personal enemies of Julian²⁶, found it necessary to affect a more than common share of satisfaction at this happy revolution. After Julian²⁶ had filled the senate²⁶ house with armed soldiers²⁶, he expatiated on the freedom of his election, his own eminent virtues, and his full assurance of the affections of the senate²⁶. The obsequious assembly congratulated their own and the public²⁶ felicity; engaged their allegiance, and conferred on him all the several branches of the Imperial power. From the senate²⁶ Julian²⁶ was conducted by the same military²⁶ procession, to take possession of the palace. The first objects which struck his eyes were the abandoned trunk of Pertinax, and the frugal entertainment prepared²⁶ for his supper. The one he viewed with indifference; the other with contempt. A magnificent feast was prepared²⁶ by his order²⁶, and he amused himself till a very late hour, with dice, and the performances of Pylades, a celebrated dancer. Yet it was observed that, after the crowd of flatterers dispersed, and left him to darkness, solitude, and terrible reflection, he passed a sleepless night; revolving most probably in his mind²⁶ his own rash folly, the fate of his virtuous predecessor, and the doubtful and dangerous tenure of an empire²⁶, which had not been acquired by merit, but purchased by money.

He had reason to tremble. On the throne⁴⁷ of the world he found himself without a friend, and even without an adherent. The guards themselves were ashamed of the prince⁴⁷ whom their avarice had persuaded them to accept; nor was there a citizen who did not consider his elevation with horror, as the last insult on the Roman⁴⁷ name. The nobility, whose conspicuous station and ample possessions exacted the strictest caution, dissembled their sentiments, and met the affected civility of the emperor⁴⁷ with smiles of complacency and professions of duty. But the people⁴⁷, secure in their numbers and obscurity, gave a free vent to their passions. The streets and public⁴⁷ places of Rome⁴⁷ resounded with clamours and imprecations. The enraged multitude affronted the person⁴⁷ of Julian, rejected his liberality, and, conscious of the impotence of their own resentment, they called aloud on the legions of the frontiers to assert the violated majesty of the Roman⁴⁷ empire⁴⁷.

The public⁴⁷ discontent was soon⁴⁷ diffused from the centre to the frontiers of the empire⁴⁷. The armies of Britain, of Syria, and of Illyricum, lamented the death⁴⁷ of Pertinax, in whose company, or under whose command⁴⁷, they had so often fought and conquered. They received with surprise, with indignation, and perhaps with envy, the extraordinary intelligence that the Praetorians had disposed of the empire⁴⁷ by public⁴⁷ auction; and they sternly refused to ratify the ignominious bargain. Their immediate and unanimous revolt was fatal to Julian, but it was fatal at the same time to the public⁴⁷ peace; as the generals of the respective armies, Clodius Albinus, Pescennius Niger, and Septimius Severus, were still more anxious to succeed than to revenge the murdered Pertinax. Their forces were exactly balanced. Each of them was at the head of three legions, with a numerous train of auxiliaries; and, however different in their characters, they were all soldiers⁴⁷ of experience and capacity.

Clodius Albinus, governor of Britain, surpassed both his competitors in the nobility of his extraction, which he derived from some of the most illustrious names of the old republic. But the branch, from whence he claimed his descent, was sunk into mean circumstances, and transplanted into a remote province. It is difficult to form a just idea of his true character. Under the philosophic cloak of austerity, he stands accused of concealing most of the vices which degrade human nature. But his accusers are those venal writers who adored the fortune of Severus, and trampled on the ashes of an unsuccessful rival. Virtue, or the appearances of virtue, recommended Albinus to the confidence and good opinion of Marcus; and his preserving with the son⁴⁷ the same interest which he had acquired with the father⁴⁷ is a proof at least that he was possessed of a very flexible disposition. The favour of a tyrant⁴⁷ does not always suppose a want of merit⁴⁷ in the object of it; he may, without intending it, reward a man of worth and ability, or he may find such a man useful to his own service. It does not appear that Albinus served the son⁴⁷ of Marcus, either as the minister of his cruelties, or even as the associate of his pleasures. He was employed in a distant honourable command⁴⁷, when he received a confidential letter from the emperor⁴⁷, acquainting him of the treasonable designs of some discontented generals, and authorising him to declare himself the guardian and successor of the throne⁴⁷, by assuming the title and ensigns of Caesar. The governor of Britain wisely declined the dangerous honour, which would have marked him for the jealousy, or involved him in the approaching ruin, of Commodus. He courted power⁴⁷ by nobler, or, at least, by more specious, arts. On a premature report of the death⁴⁷ of the emperor⁴⁷, he assembled his troops⁴⁷; and, in an eloquent discourse, deplored the inevitable mischiefs of despotism, described the happiness and glory which their ancestors had enjoyed under the consular government⁴⁷, and declared his firm resolution to reinstate the senate⁴⁷ and people⁴⁷ in their legal authority⁴⁷. This popular harangue was answered by the loud acclamations of the British legions, and received at Rome⁴⁷ with a secret⁴⁷ murmur of applause. Safe in the possession of his little world, and in the command⁴⁷ of an army⁴⁷ less distinguished indeed for discipline than for numbers and valour, Albinus braved the menaces of Commodus, maintained towards Pertinax a stately ambiguous reserve, and instantly declared against the usurpation of Julian. The convulsions of the capital added new weight to his sentiments, or rather to his professions, of patriotism. A regard to decency induced him to decline the lofty titles of Augustus and Emperor⁴⁷, and he imitated perhaps the example of Galba, who, on a similar occasion, had styled himself the Lieutenant of the senate⁴⁷ and people⁴⁷.

Personal merit⁴⁷ alone had raised Pescennius Niger from an obscure birth and station to the government⁴⁷ of Syria; a lucrative and important command⁴⁷, which in times of civil⁴⁷ confusion gave him a near prospect of the throne⁴⁷. Yet his parts seem to have been better suited to the second than to the first rank⁴⁷; he was an unequal rival, though he might have approved himself an excellent lieutenant, to Severus, who afterwards displayed the greatness of his mind by adopting several useful institutions from a vanquished enemy. In his government⁴⁷, Niger acquired the esteem of the soldiers⁴⁷ and the love of the provincials. His rigid discipline fortified the valour and confirmed the obedience of the former, whilst the voluptuous Syrians were less delighted with the mild firmness of his administration than with the affability of his manners and the apparent pleasure with which he attended their frequent and pompous festivals. As soon⁴⁷ as the intelligence of the atrocious murder of Pertinax had reached Antioch, the wishes of Asia invited Niger to assume the Imperial⁴⁷ purple and revenge his death⁴⁷. The legions of the eastern frontier embraced his cause; the opulent but unarmed provinces⁴⁷, from the frontiers of Aethiopia to the Hadriatic, cheerfully submitted to his power⁴⁷; and the kings beyond the Tigris and the Euphrates congratulated his election, and offered him their homage and services. The mind of Niger was not capable of receiving this sudden tide of fortune; he flattered himself that his accession would be undisturbed by competition, and unstained by civil⁴⁷ blood; and whilst he enjoyed the vain pomp of triumph, he neglected to secure the means of victory. Instead of entering into an effectual negotiation with the powerful armies of the West, whose resolution might decide, or at least must balance, the mighty contest; instead of advancing without delay towards Rome⁴⁷ and Italy⁴⁷, where his presence was impatiently expected, Niger trifled away in the luxury of Antioch those irretrievable moments which were diligently improved by the decisive activity of Severus.

The country⁹ of Pannonia and Dalmatia, which occupied the space between the Danube⁹ and the Hadriatic, was one of the last and most difficult conquests of the Romans⁹. In the defence of national freedom, two hundred thousand⁹ of these barbarians⁹ had once appeared in the field, alarmed the declining age of Augustus, and exercised the vigilant prudence of Tiberius at the head of the collected force of the empire⁹. The Pannonians yielded at length to the arms⁹ and institutions of Rome⁹. Their recent subjection, however, the neighbourhood, and even the mixture of the unconquered tribes⁹, and perhaps the climate, adapted, as it has been observed, to the production of great⁹ bodies and slow minds, all contributed to preserve some remains of their original ferocity, and, under the tame resemblance of Roman⁹ provincials, the hardy features of the natives were still to be discerned. Their warlike youth afforded an inexhaustible supply of recruits to the legions stationed on the banks⁹ of the Danube⁹, and which, from a perpetual warfare against the Germans and Sarmatians, were deservedly esteemed the best troops⁹ in the service.

The Pannonian army⁴⁷ was at this time commanded by Septimius Severus, a native of Africa, who, in the gradual ascent of private⁴⁷ honours, had concealed his daring ambition, which was never diverted from its steady course by the allurements of pleasure, the apprehension of danger⁴⁷, or the feelings of humanity. On the first news of the murder of Pertinax, he assembled his troops⁴⁷, painted in the most lively colours the crime, the insolence, and the weakness of the Praetorian guards, and animated the legions to arms⁴⁷ and to revenge. He concluded (and the peroration was thought extremely eloquent) with promising every soldier about four hundred pounds; an honourable donative, double in value to the infamous bribe with which Julian had purchased the empire⁴⁷. The acclamations of the army⁴⁷ immediately saluted Severus with the names of Augustus, Pertinax, and Emperor⁴⁷; and he thus attained the lofty station to which he was invited by conscious merit⁴⁷ and a long⁴⁷ train of dreams and omens, the fruitful offspring either of his superstition or policy.

The new candidate for empire⁴⁷ saw and improved the peculiar advantage of his situation. His province extended to the Julian Alps, which gave an easy access into Italy⁴⁷; and he remembered the saying of Augustus, That a Pannonian army⁴⁷ might in ten days appear in sight of Rome⁴⁷. By a celerity proportioned to the greatness of the occasion, he might reasonably hope to revenge Pertinax, punish Julian, and receive the homage of the senate⁴⁷ and people⁴⁷, as their lawful emperor⁴⁷, before his competitors, separated from Italy⁴⁷ by an immense tract of sea and land, were apprised of his success, or even of his election. During the whole expedition, he scarcely allowed himself any moments for sleep or food; marching on foot, and in complete armour, at the head of his columns, he insinuated himself into the confidence and affection of his troops⁴⁷, pressed their diligence, revived their spirits, animated their hopes, and was well satisfied to share the hardships of the meanest soldier, whilst he kept in view the infinite superiority of his reward.

The wretched Julian³ had expected, and thought himself prepared, to dispute the empire³ with the governor of Syria; but in the invincible and rapid approach of the Pannonian legions, he saw his inevitable ruin. The hasty arrival of every messenger increased his just apprehensions. He was successively informed that Severus had passed the Alps; that the Italian cities, unwilling or unable to oppose his progress, had received him with the warmest professions of joy and duty; that the important³ place of Ravenna had surrendered without resistance, and that the Hadriatic fleet was in the hands of the conqueror. The enemy³ was now within two hundred and fifty miles of Rome; and every moment diminished the narrow span of life and empire³ allotted to Julian³.

He attempted, however, to prevent, or at least to protract, his ruin. He implored the venal faith of the Praetorians, filled the city with unavailing preparations for war, drew lines round the suburbs, and even strengthened the fortifications of the palace; as if those last intrenchments could be defended, without hope of relief, against a victorious invader. Fear and shame prevented the guards from deserting his standard; but they trembled at the name of the Pannonian legions, commanded by an experienced general, and accustomed to vanquish the barbarians³⁷ on the frozen Danube. They quitted, with a sigh, the pleasures of the baths and theatres, to put on arms³⁷, whose use³⁷ they had almost forgotten, and beneath the weight³⁷ of which they were oppressed. The unpractised elephants, whose uncouth appearance, it was hoped, would strike terror into the army of the North, threw their unskilful riders; and the awkward evolutions of the marines, drawn from the fleet of Misenum, were an object of ridicule to the populace; whilst the senate enjoyed, with secret pleasure, the distress and weakness of the usurper.

Every motion of Julian betrayed his trembling perplexity. He insisted that Severus should be declared a public⁴⁴ enemy by the senate. He entreated that the Pannonian general⁴⁴ might be associated to the empire. He sent public⁴⁴ ambassadors of consular rank to negotiate with his rival; he despatched private⁴⁴ assassins to take away⁴⁴ his life⁴⁴. He designed that the Vestal virgins, and all the colleges of priests, in their sacerdotal habits, and bearing before them the sacred pledges of the Roman religion⁴⁴, should advance, in solemn procession, to meet the Pannonian legions; and, at the same time, he vainly tried to interrogate, or to appease, the fates, by magic ceremonies, and unlawful sacrifices.

Severus, who dreaded neither his arms nor his enchantments, guarded himself from the only danger of secret³¹ conspiracy by the faithful attendance of six hundred chosen men, who never quitted his person or their cuirasses, either by night or by day, during the whole march. Advancing with a steady and rapid course, he passed, without difficulty, the defiles of the Apennine, received into his party the troops and ambassadors sent to retard his progress, and made a short halt at Interamna, about seventy miles from Rome. His victory was already secure; but the despair of the Praetorians might have rendered it bloody; and Severus³¹ had the laudable ambition of ascending the throne without drawing the sword. His emissaries, dispersed in the capital, assured the guards that, provided they would abandon their worthless prince³¹, and the perpetrators of the murder of Pertinax, to the justice of the conqueror, he would no longer³¹ consider that melancholy event as the act of the whole body³¹. The faithless Praetorians, whose resistance was supported only by sullen obstinacy, gladly complied with the easy conditions, seized the greatest part of the assassins, and signified to the senate that they no longer³¹ defended the cause of Julian. That assembly, convoked by the consul, unanimously acknowledged Severus³¹ as lawful emperor³¹, decreed divine honours to Pertinax, and pronounced a sentence of deposition and death³¹ against his unfortunate successor. Julian was conducted into a private apartment of the baths of the palace³¹, and beheaded as a common criminal, after having purchased, with an immense treasure, an anxious and precarious reign³¹ of only sixty-six days³¹. The almost incredible expedition of Severus³¹, who, in so short a space of time³¹, conducted a numerous army from the banks of the Danube to those of the Tiber, proves at once the plenty of provisions produced by agriculture and commerce, the goodness of the roads, the discipline of the legions, and the indolent subdued temper of the provinces.

The first cares of Severus were bestowed on two measures, the one dictated by policy, the other by decency; the revenge, and the honours due to the memory of Pertinax. Before the new emperor⁴⁷ entered Rome⁴⁷, he issued his commands to the Praetorian guards, directing them to wait his arrival on a large plain near the city⁴⁷, without arms⁴⁷, but in the habits of ceremony in which they were accustomed to attend their sovereign⁴⁷. He was obeyed by those haughty troops⁴⁷, whose contrition was the effect of their just terrors. A chosen part of the Illyrian army⁴⁷ encompassed them with levelled spears. Incapable of flight or resistance, they expected their fate in silent consternation. Severus mounted the tribunal, sternly reproached them with perfidy and cowardice, dismissed them with ignominy from the trust which they had betrayed, despoiled them of their splendid ornaments, and banished them, on pain of death⁴⁷, to the distance of an hundred miles from the capital. During the transaction, another detachment had been sent to seize their arms⁴⁷, occupy their camp, and prevent the hasty consequences of their despair.

The funeral and consecration of Pertinax was next solemnised with every circumstance of sad magnificence. The senate⁴⁷, with a melancholy pleasure, performed the last rites to that excellent prince⁴⁷, whom they had loved and still regretted. The concern of his successor was probably less sincere. He esteemed the virtues of Pertinax, but those virtues would for ever have confined his ambition to a private⁴⁷ station. Severus pronounced his funeral oration with studied eloquence, inward satisfaction, and well-acted sorrow; and by this pious regard to his memory, convinced the credulous multitude that he alone was worthy to supply his place. Sensible, however, that arms⁴⁷, not ceremonies, must assert his claim to the empire⁴⁷, he left Rome⁴⁷ at the end of thirty days, and, without suffering himself to be elated by this easy victory, prepared to encounter his more formidable rivals.

The uncommon abilities and fortune of Severus¹⁰ have induced an elegant historian to compare him with the first and greatest of the Caesars. The parallel is, at least, imperfect. Where shall we find, in the character¹⁰ of Severus¹⁰, the commanding superiority of soul, the generous clemency, and the various¹⁰ genius, which could reconcile and unite¹⁰ the love of pleasure, the thirst of knowledge, and the fire of ambition? In one instance only, they may be compared, with some degree of propriety, in the celerity of their motion, and their civil¹⁰ victories. In less than four years, Severus¹⁰ subdued the riches of the East, and the valour of the West. He vanquished two competitors of reputation and ability, and defeated numerous¹⁰ armies, provided with weapons¹⁰ and discipline¹⁰ equal to his own. In that age¹⁰, the art of fortification and the principles of tactics, were well understood by all the Roman¹⁰ generals; and the constant superiority of Severus¹⁰ was that of an artist, who uses the same instruments with more skill and industry¹⁰ than his rivals. I shall not, however, enter into a minute narrative of these military¹⁰ operations; but as the two civil¹⁰ wars against Niger and against Albinus, were almost the same in their conduct, event, and consequences, I shall collect into one point of view the most striking circumstances, tending to develop the character¹⁰ of the conqueror, and the state of the empire¹⁰.

Falsehood and insincerity, unsuitable as they seem to the dignity of public¹¹ transactions, offend us with a less degrading idea of meanness than when they are found in the intercourse of private¹¹ life¹¹. In the latter, they discover a want of courage¹¹; in the other, only a defect of power¹¹; and, as it is impossible for the most able statesmen to subdue millions of followers and enemies by their own personal strength, the world, under the name of policy¹¹, seems to have granted them a very liberal indulgence of craft and dissimulation. Yet the arts¹¹ of Severus cannot be justified by the most ample privileges of state¹¹-reason. He promised only to betray, he flattered only to ruin; and however he might occasionally bind himself by oaths and treaties, his conscience, obsequious to his interest, always released him from the inconvenient obligation.

If his two competitors, reconciled by their common danger¹⁵, had advanced upon him without delay, perhaps Severus¹⁵ would have sunk under their united effort. Had they even attacked him at the same time, with separate views and separate armies, the contest might have been long¹⁵ and doubtful. But they fell, singly and successively, an easy prey to the arts as well as arms¹⁵ of their subtle enemy, lulled into security by the moderation of his professions, and overwhelmed by the rapidity of his action. He first marched against Niger¹⁵, whose reputation and power¹⁵ he the most dreaded: but he declined any hostile declarations, suppressed the name of his antagonist, and only signified to the senate¹⁵ and people¹⁵ his intention of regulating the eastern provinces¹⁵. In private he spoke of Niger¹⁵, his old friend and intended successor¹⁵, with the most affectionate regard, and highly applauded his generous design of revenging the murder of Pertinax¹⁵. To punish the vile usurper of the throne was the duty of every Roman¹⁵ general¹⁵. To persevere in arms¹⁵, and to resist a lawful emperor¹⁵, acknowledged by the senate¹⁵, would alone render him criminal. The sons of Niger¹⁵ had fallen into his hands¹⁵ among the children of the provincial governors, detained at Rome¹⁵ as pledges for the loyalty of their parents. As long¹⁵ as the power¹⁵ of Niger¹⁵ inspired terror, or even respect, they were educated with the most tender care, with the children of Severus¹⁵ himself; but they were soon¹⁵ involved in their father's ruin, and removed, first by exile, and afterwards by death¹⁵, from the eye of public¹⁵ compassion.

Whilst Severus was engaged in his eastern war⁴⁷, he had reason to apprehend that the governor of Britain might pass the sea and the Alps, occupy the vacant seat of empire⁴⁷, and oppose his return with the authority⁴⁷ of the senate⁴⁷ and the forces of the West. The ambiguous conduct⁴⁷ of Albinus, in not assuming the Imperial⁴⁷ title, left room for negotiation. Forgetting at once his professions of patriotism and the jealousy of sovereign⁴⁷ power⁴⁷, he accepted the precarious rank⁴⁷ of Caesar, as a reward for his fatal neutrality. Till the first contest was decided, Severus treated the man whom he had doomed to destruction with every mark of esteem and regard. Even in the letter in which he announced his victory over Niger he styles Albinus the brother of his soul and empire⁴⁷, sends him the affectionate salutations of his wife Julia, and his young family, and entreats him to preserve the armies and the republic faithful to their common interest. The messengers charged with this letter were instructed to accost the Caesar with respect, to desire a private⁴⁷ audience, and to plunge their daggers into his heart. The conspiracy was discovered, and the too credulous Albinus at length passed over to the continent, and prepared for an unequal contest with his rival, who rushed upon him at the head of a veteran and victorious army⁴⁷.

The military³ labours of Severus seem inadequate to the importance of his conquests. Two engagements, the one near the Hellespont, the other in the narrow defiles of Cilicia, decided the fate of his Syrian competitor; and the troops³ of Europe asserted their usual ascendant over the effeminate natives of Asia. The battle of Lyons, where one hundred and fifty thousand³ Romans³ were engaged, was equally fatal to Albinus. The valour³ of the British army³ maintained, indeed, a sharp and doubtful contest with the hardy discipline of the Illyrian legions. The fame and person of Severus appeared, during a few moments, irrecoverably lost, till that warlike prince³ rallied his fainting troops³, and led them on to a decisive victory³. The war³ was finished by that memorable day.

The civil⁴⁷ wars of modern Europe have been distinguished, not only by the fierce animosity, but likewise by the obstinate perseverance, of the contending factions. They have generally been justified by some principle, or, at least, coloured by some pretext, of religion, freedom, or loyalty. The leaders were nobles of independent property and hereditary influence. The troops⁴⁷ fought like men interested in the decision of the quarrel; and as military⁴⁷ spirit⁴⁷ and party zeal were strongly diffused throughout the whole community, a vanquished chief was immediately supplied with new adherents, eager to shed their blood in the same cause. But the Romans, after the fall of the republic, combated only for the choice of masters. Under the standard of a popular candidate for empire⁴⁷, a few enlisted from affection, some from fear, many from interest, none from principle. The legions, uninflamed by party zeal, were allured into civil⁴⁷ war⁴⁷ by liberal donatives, and still more liberal promises. A defeat, by disabling the chief from the performance of his engagements, dissolved the mercenary allegiance of his followers, and left them to consult their own safety by a timely desertion of an unsuccessful cause. It was of little moment to the provinces⁴⁷ under whose name they were oppressed or governed; they were driven by the impulsion of the present power⁴⁷, and as soon⁴⁷ as that power⁴⁷ yielded to a superior force, they hastened to implore the clemency of the conqueror, who, as he had an immense debt to discharge, was obliged to sacrifice the most guilty countries to the avarice of his soldiers⁴⁷. In the vast extent of the Roman⁴⁷ empire⁴⁷ there were few fortified cities capable of protecting a routed army⁴⁷; nor was there any person⁴⁷, or family, or order of men, whose natural interest, unsupported by the powers of government⁴⁷, was capable of restoring the cause of a sinking party.

Yet, in the contest between Niger and Severus, a single city³⁰ deserves an honourable exception. As Byzantium was one of the greatest passages from Europe into Asia, it had been provided with a strong garrison, and a fleet of five hundred vessels was anchored in the harbour. The impetuosity of Severus disappointed this prudent scheme of defence; he left³⁰ to his generals the siege³⁰ of Byzantium, forced the less guarded passage of the Hellespont, and, impatient of a meaner enemy³⁰, pressed forward to encounter his rival. Byzantium, attacked by a numerous and increasing army³⁰, and afterwards by the whole naval power of the empire³⁰, sustained a siege³⁰ of three years³⁰, and remained faithful to the name and memory of Niger. The citizens and soldiers³⁰ (we know not from what cause) were animated with equal fury; several of the principal officers of Niger, who despaired of, or who disdained a pardon, had thrown themselves into this last refuge; the fortifications were esteemed impregnable, and, in the defence of the place, a celebrated engineer displayed all the mechanic powers known to the ancients. Byzantium, at length, surrendered to famine. The magistrates and soldiers³⁰ were put to the sword³⁰, the walls³⁰ demolished, the privileges suppressed, and the destined capital of the East subsisted only as an open village, subject to the insulting jurisdiction of Perinthus. The historian Dion, who had admired the flourishing, and lamented the desolate, state of Byzantium, accused the revenge of Severus for depriving the Roman³⁰ people³⁰ of the strongest bulwark against the barbarians of Pontus and Asia. The truth of this observation was but too well justified in the succeeding age, when the Gothic fleets covered the Euxine, and passed through the undefended Bosphorus into the centre of the Mediterranean.

Both Niger and Albinus were discovered and put to death⁴⁷ in their flight from the field of battle. Their fate excited neither surprise nor compassion. They had staked their lives against the chance of empire⁴⁷, and suffered what they would have inflicted; nor did Severus claim the arrogant superiority of suffering his rivals to live in a private⁴⁷ station. But his unforgiving temper, stimulated by avarice, indulged a spirit⁴⁷ of revenge, where there was no room for apprehension. The most considerable of the provincials, who, without any dislike to the fortunate candidate, had obeyed the governor under whose authority⁴⁷ they were accidentally placed, were punished by death⁴⁷, exile, and especially by the confiscation of their estates. Many cities of the East⁴⁷ were stript of their ancient honours, and obliged to pay, into the treasury of Severus, four times the amount of the sums contributed by them for the service of Niger.

Till the final decision of the war⁴⁷, the cruelty of Severus was, in some measure, restrained by the uncertainty of the event and his pretended reverence for the senate⁴⁷. The head of Albinus, accompanied with a menacing letter, announced to the Romans that he was resolved to spare none of the adherents of his unfortunate competitors. He was irritated by the just suspicion that he had never possessed the affections of the senate⁴⁷, and he concealed his old malevolence under the recent discovery of some treasonable correspondencies. Thirty-five senators, however, accused of having favoured the party of Albinus, he freely pardoned; and, by his subsequent behaviour, endeavoured to convince them that he had forgotten, as well as forgiven, their supposed offences. But, at the same time, he condemned forty-one other senators, whose names history has recorded; their wives, children, and clients, attended them in death⁴⁷, and the noblest provincials of Spain and Gaul were involved in the same ruin. Such rigid justice⁴⁷, for so he termed it, was, in the opinion of Severus, the only conduct⁴⁷ capable of ensuring peace to the people⁴⁷, or stability to the prince⁴⁷; and he condescended slightly to lament that, to be mild, it was necessary that he should first be cruel.

The true interest of an absolute⁶ monarch generally coincides with that of his people⁶. Their numbers, their wealth, their order, and their security, are the best and only foundations of his real greatness; and, were he totally devoid of virtue⁶, prudence⁶ might supply its place, and would dictate the same rule of conduct. Severus considered the Roman⁶ empire⁶ as his property, and had no sooner secured the possession, than he bestowed his care on the cultivation and improvement of so valuable an acquisition. Salutary laws⁶, executed with inflexible firmness, soon⁶ corrected most of the abuses with which, since the death of Marcus, every part of the government⁶ had been infected. In the administration of justice, the judgments of the emperor were characterised by attention, discernment, and impartiality; and, whenever he deviated from the strict line of equity, it was generally in favour of the poor and oppressed; not so much indeed from any sense of humanity, as from the natural propensity of a despot to humble the pride of greatness, and to sink all his subjects⁶ to the same common level of absolute⁶ dependence. His expensive taste for building, magnificent shows, and, above all, a constant and liberal distribution of corn and provisions, were the surest means of captivating the affection of the Roman⁶ people⁶. The misfortunes of civil⁶ discord were obliterated. The calm of peace⁶ and prosperity was once more experienced in the provinces⁶, and many cities, restored by the munificence of Severus, assumed the title of his colonies, and attested by public⁶ monuments their gratitude and felicity. The fame of the Roman⁶ arms⁶ was revived by that warlike and successful emperor, and he boasted, with a just pride, that, having received the empire⁶ oppressed with foreign and domestic⁶ wars, he left it established in profound, universal, and honourable peace⁶.

Although the wounds of civil⁴⁷ war⁴⁷ appeared completely healed, its mortal poison still lurked in the vitals of the constitution. Severus possessed a considerable share of vigour and ability; but the daring soul of the first Caesar, or the deep policy of Augustus, were scarcely equal to the task of curbing the insolence of the victorious legions. By gratitude, by misguided policy, by seeming necessity, Severus was induced to relax the nerves of discipline. The vanity of his soldiers⁴⁷ was flattered with the honour of wearing gold rings; their ease was indulged in the permission of living with their wives in the idleness of quarters. He increased their pay beyond the example of former times, and taught them to expect, and soon⁴⁷ to claim, extraordinary donatives on every public⁴⁷ occasion of danger⁴⁷ or festivity. Elated by success, enervated by luxury, and raised above the level of subjects by their dangerous privileges, they soon⁴⁷ became incapable of military⁴⁷ fatigue, oppressive to the country, and impatient of a just subordination. Their officers asserted the superiority of rank⁴⁷ by a more profuse and elegant luxury. There is still extant a letter of Severus, lamenting the licentious state of the army⁴⁷, and exhorting one of his generals to begin the necessary reformation from the tribunes themselves; since, as he justly observes, the officer who has forfeited the esteem, will never command⁴⁷ the obedience, of his soldiers⁴⁷. Had the emperor⁴⁷ pursued the train of reflection, he would have discovered that the primary cause of this general⁴⁷ corruption might be ascribed, not indeed to the example, but to the pernicious indulgence, however, of the commander-in-chief.

The Praetorians, who murdered their emperor and sold the empire³⁷, had received the just punishment of their treason; but the necessary, though dangerous, institution of guards was soon³⁷ restored on a new³⁷ model by Severus, and increased to four times³⁷ the ancient³⁷ number. Formerly these troops had been recruited in Italy; and, as the adjacent provinces gradually imbibed the softer manners³⁷ of Rome³⁷, the levies were extended to Macedonia, Noricum, and Spain. In the room of these elegant troops, better adapted to the pomp of courts than to the uses of war, it was established by Severus, that, from all the legions of the frontiers, the soldiers most distinguished³⁷ for strength³⁷, valour, and fidelity, should be occasionally draughted, and promoted, as an honour³⁷ and reward, into the more eligible service of the guards. By this new³⁷ institution, the Italian youth were diverted from the exercise of arms³⁷, and the capital was terrified by the strange aspect and manners³⁷ of a multitude of barbarians³⁷. But Severus flattered himself that the legions would consider these chosen Praetorians as the representatives of the whole military order; and that the present³⁷ aid of fifty thousand men³⁷, superior in arms³⁷ and appointments to any force that could be brought into the field against them, would for ever crush the hopes of rebellion, and secure the empire³⁷ to himself and his posterity.

The command⁴⁷ of these favoured and formidable troops⁴⁷ soon⁴⁷ became the first office of the empire⁴⁷. As the government⁴⁷ degenerated into military⁴⁷ despotism, the Praetorian prefect⁴⁷, who in his origin had been a simple captain of the guards, was placed, not only at the head of the army⁴⁷, but of the finances, and even of the law. In every department of administration, he represented the person⁴⁷, and exercised the authority⁴⁷, of the emperor⁴⁷. The first prefect⁴⁷ who enjoyed and abused this immense power⁴⁷ was Plautianus, the favourite minister of Severus. His reign⁴⁷ lasted above ten years, till the marriage of his daughter with the eldest son⁴⁷ of the emperor⁴⁷, which seemed to assure his fortune, proved the occasion of his ruin. The animosities of the palace⁴⁷, by irritating the ambition and alarming the fears of Plautianus, threatened to produce a revolution, and obliged the emperor⁴⁷, who still loved him, to consent with reluctance to his death⁴⁷. After the fall of Plautianus, an eminent lawyer, the celebrated Papinian, was appointed to execute the motley office of Praetorian prefect⁴⁷.

Till the reign³⁶ of Severus, the virtue, and even the good sense of the emperors had been distinguished by their zeal or affected reverence for the senate, and by a tender regard to the nice frame of civil policy instituted by Augustus. But the youth³⁶ of Severus had been trained in the implicit obedience of camps, and his riper years spent in the despotism of military command. His haughty and inflexible spirit³⁶ could not discover, or would not acknowledge, the advantage of preserving an intermediate power³⁶, however imaginary, between the emperor³⁶ and the army³⁶. He disdained to profess himself the servant of an assembly that detested his person and trembled at his frown; he issued his commands, where his request would have proved as effectual; assumed the conduct and style of a sovereign and a conqueror, and exercised, without disguise, the whole legislative as well as the executive power³⁶.

The victory over the senate⁴⁷ was easy and inglorious. Every eye and every passion were directed to the supreme magistrate, who possessed the arms⁴⁷ and treasure of the state; whilst the senate⁴⁷, neither elected by the people⁴⁷, nor guarded by the military⁴⁷ force, nor animated by public⁴⁷ spirit⁴⁷, rested its declining authority⁴⁷ on the frail and crumbling basis of ancient opinion. The fine theory of a republic insensibly vanished, and made way for the more natural and substantial feelings of monarchy. As the freedom and honours of Rome⁴⁷ were successfully communicated to the provinces⁴⁷, in which the old government⁴⁷ had been either unknown, or was remembered with abhorrence, the tradition of republican maxims was gradually obliterated. The Greek historians of the age⁴⁷ of the Antonines observe, with a malicious pleasure, that, although the sovereign⁴⁷ of Rome⁴⁷, in compliance with an obsolete prejudice, abstained from the name of king, he possessed the full measure of regal power⁴⁷. In the reign⁴⁷ of Severus, the senate⁴⁷ was filled with polished and eloquent slaves from the eastern provinces⁴⁷, who justified personal flattery by speculative principles of servitude. These new advocates of prerogative were heard with pleasure by the court, and with patience by the people⁴⁷, when they inculcated the duty of passive obedience, and descanted on the inevitable mischiefs of freedom. The lawyers and the historians concurred in teaching that the Imperial⁴⁷ authority⁴⁷ was held, not by the delegated commission, but by the irrevocable resignation, of the senate⁴⁷; that the emperor⁴⁷ was freed from the restraint of civil⁴⁷ laws, could command⁴⁷ by his arbitrary will the lives and fortunes of his subjects, and might dispose of the empire⁴⁷ as of his private⁴⁷ patrimony. The most eminent of the civil⁴⁷ lawyers, and particularly Papinian, Paulus, and Ulpian, flourished under the house of Severus; and the Roman⁴⁷ jurisprudence, having closely united itself with the system of monarchy, was supposed to have attained its full maturity and perfection.

The contemporaries of Severus, in the enjoyment of the peace and glory⁴⁶ of his reign⁴⁶, forgave the cruelties by which it had been introduced. Posterity, who experienced the fatal effect of his maxims and example, justly considered him as the principal author of the decline of the Roman⁴⁶ empire⁴⁶.

The ascent to greatness, however steep and dangerous, may entertain an active spirit with the consciousness and exercise of its own powers: but the possession of a throne could never yet afford a lasting satisfaction to an ambitious mind⁸. This melancholy truth⁸ was felt and acknowledged by Severus. Fortune and merit had, from an humble station, elevated him to the first place among mankind⁸. He had been all things, as he said himself, and all was of little value. Distracted with the care, not of acquiring, but of preserving, an empire⁸, oppressed with age⁸ and infirmities, careless of fame, and satiated with power, all his prospects of life⁸ were closed. The desire of perpetuating the greatness of his family was the only remaining wish of his ambition and paternal tenderness.

Like most of the Africans, Severus was passionately addicted to the vain studies of magic and divination, deeply versed in the interpretation of dreams and omens, and perfectly acquainted with the science of judicial astrology; which, in almost every age⁴⁶ except the present⁴⁶, has maintained its dominion over the mind⁴⁶ of man. He had lost his first wife whilst he was governor of the Lyonnese Gaul. In the choice of a second, he sought only to connect himself with some favourite of fortune; and, as soon as he had discovered that a young lady of Emesa in Syria had a royal nativity, he solicited and obtained her hand. Julia Domna (for that was her name) deserved all that the stars could promise her. She possessed, even in an advanced age⁴⁶, the attractions of beauty, and united to a lively imagination a firmness of mind⁴⁶, and strength of judgment, seldom bestowed on her sex. Her amiable qualities never made any deep impression on the dark and jealous temper of her husband; but, in her son's reign⁴⁶, she administered the principal affairs of the empire⁴⁶ with a prudence that supported his authority; and with a moderation that sometimes corrected his wild extravagancies. Julia applied herself to letters and philosophy⁴⁶ with some success, and with the most splendid reputation. She was the patroness of every art, and the friend of every man of genius⁴⁶. The grateful flattery of the learned has celebrated her virtues⁴⁶; but, if we may credit the scandal of ancient history⁴⁶, chastity was very far from being the most conspicuous virtue⁴⁶ of the Empress Julia.

Two sons³¹, Caracalla³¹ and Geta³¹, were the fruit of this marriage, and the destined heirs of the empire. The fond hopes of the father³¹, and of the Roman world³¹, were soon³¹ disappointed by these vain youths, who displayed the indolent security of hereditary princes, and a presumption that fortune would supply the place of merit and application. Without any emulation of virtue³¹ or talents, they discovered, almost from their infancy, a fixed and implacable antipathy for each other.

Their aversion, confirmed by years, and fomented by the arts of their interested favourites, broke out in childish, and gradually in more serious, competitions; and at length divided the theatre, the circus, and the court, into two factions, actuated by the hopes and fears of their respective leaders. The prudent emperor⁴⁷ endeavoured, by every expedient of advice and authority⁴⁷, to allay this growing animosity. The unhappy discord of his sons clouded all his prospects, and threatened to overturn a throne⁴⁷ raised with so much labour, cemented with so much blood, and guarded with every defence of arms⁴⁷ and treasure. With an impartial hand he maintained between them an exact balance of favour, conferred on both the rank⁴⁷ of Augustus, with the revered name of Antoninus; and for the first time the Roman⁴⁷ world beheld three emperors. Yet even this equal conduct⁴⁷ served only to inflame the contest, whilst the fierce Caracalla asserted the right of primogeniture, and the milder Geta courted the affections of the people⁴⁷ and the soldiers⁴⁷. In the anguish of a disappointed father⁴⁷, Severus foretold that the weaker of his sons would fall a sacrifice to the stronger; who, in his turn, would be ruined by his own vices.

In these circumstances the intelligence of a war⁹ in Britain, and of an invasion of the province⁹ by the barbarians⁹ of the North⁹, was received with pleasure by Severus. Though the vigilance of his lieutenants might have been sufficient to repel the distant enemy, he resolved to embrace the honourable pretext of withdrawing his sons from the luxury of Rome⁹, which enervated their minds and irritated their passions, and of inuring their youth to the toils of war⁹ and government. Notwithstanding his advanced age (for he was above three-score), and his gout, which obliged him to be carried in a litter, he transported himself in person into that remote island, attended by his two sons, his whole court, and a formidable army⁹. He immediately passed the walls⁹ of Hadrian and Antoninus, and entered the enemy's country⁹, with the design of completing the long⁹-attempted conquest⁹ of Britain. He penetrated to the northern extremity of the island without meeting an enemy. But the concealed ambuscades of the Caledonians, who hung unseen on the rear and flanks of his army⁹, the coldness of the climate, and the severity of a winter march across the hills and morasses of Scotland, are reported to have cost the Romans⁹ above fifty thousand⁹ men⁹. The Caledonians at length yielded to the powerful and obstinate attack, sued for peace, and surrendered a part of their arms⁹, and a large tract of territory. But their apparent submission lasted no longer than the present terror. As soon⁹ as the Roman⁹ legions had retired, they resumed their hostile independence. Their restless spirit provoked Severus to send a new⁹ army⁹ into Caledonia, with the most bloody orders, not to subdue, but to extirpate the natives. They were saved by the death of their haughty enemy.

This Caledonian war⁴³, neither marked by decisive events, nor attended with any important consequences, would ill deserve our attention; but it is supposed, not without a considerable degree of probability, that the invasion of Severus is connected with the most shining period of the British history⁴³ of fable. Fingal, whose fame, with that of his heroes and bards, has been revived in our language by a recent publication, is said to have commanded the Caledonians in that memorable juncture, to have eluded the power of Severus, and to have obtained a signal victory on the banks of the Carun, in which the son of the King of the World, Caracul, fled from his arms⁴³ along the fields of his pride. Something of a doubtful mist still hangs over these Highland traditions; nor can it be entirely dispelled by the most ingenious researches of modern criticism: but if we could, with safety, indulge the pleasing supposition that Fingal lived, and that Ossian sung, the striking contrast of the situation and manners of the contending nations might amuse a philosophic mind. The parallel would be little to the advantage of the more civilised people⁴³, if we compared the unrelenting revenge of Severus with the generous clemency of Fingal; the timid and brutal cruelty of Caracalla, with the bravery, the tenderness, the elegant genius of Ossian; the mercenary chiefs⁴³ who, from motives of fear or interest, served under the Imperial standard, with the freeborn warriors who started to arms⁴³ at the voice of the King of Morven; if, in a word, we contemplated the untutored Caledonians, glowing with the warm virtues of nature, and the degenerate Romans, polluted with the mean vices of wealth and slavery.

The declining health and last illness of Severus inflamed the wild ambition and black passions of Caracalla's soul. Impatient of any delay or division of empire⁴⁷, he attempted, more than once, to shorten the small remainder of his father⁴⁷'s days, and endeavoured, but without success, to excite a mutiny among the troops⁴⁷. The old emperor⁴⁷ had often censured the misguided lenity of Marcus, who, by a single act of justice⁴⁷, might have saved the Romans from the tyranny of his worthless son⁴⁷. Placed in the same situation, he experienced how easily the rigour of a judge dissolves away in the tenderness of a parent. He deliberated, he threatened, but he could not punish; and this last and only instance of mercy was more fatal to the empire⁴⁷ than a long⁴⁷ series of cruelty. The disorder of his mind irritated the pains of his body; he wished impatiently for death⁴⁷, and hastened the instant of it by his impatience. He expired at York in the sixty-fifth year of his life⁴⁷, and in the eighteenth of a glorious and successful reign⁴⁷. In his last moments he recommended concord to his sons, and his sons to the army⁴⁷. The salutary advice never reached the heart, or even the understanding, of the impetuous youths; but the more obedient troops⁴⁷, mindful of their oath of allegiance, and of the authority⁴⁷ of their deceased master⁴⁷, resisted the solicitations of Caracalla, and proclaimed both brothers emperors of Rome⁴⁷. The new princes soon⁴⁷ left the Caledonians in peace, returned to the capital, celebrated their father⁴⁷'s funeral with divine honours, and were cheerfully acknowledged as lawful sovereigns by the senate⁴⁷, the people⁴⁷, and the provinces⁴⁷. Some pre-eminence of rank⁴⁷ seems to have been allowed to the elder brother; but they both administered the empire⁴⁷ with equal and independent power⁴⁷.

Such a divided form of government⁴⁷ would have proved a source of discord between the most affectionate brothers. It was impossible that it could long⁴⁷ subsist between two implacable enemies, who neither desired nor could trust a reconciliation. It was visible that one only could reign⁴⁷, and that the other must fall; and each of them, judging of his rival's designs by his own, guarded his life⁴⁷ with the most jealous vigilance from the repeated attacks of poison or the sword. Their rapid journey through Gaul and Italy⁴⁷, during which they never ate at the same table, or slept in the same house, displayed to the provinces⁴⁷ the odious spectacle of fraternal discord. On their arrival at Rome⁴⁷, they immediately divided the vast extent of the Imperial⁴⁷ palace⁴⁷. No communication was allowed between their apartments; the doors and passages were diligently fortified, and guards posted and relieved with the same strictness as in a besieged place. The emperors met only in public⁴⁷, in the presence of their afflicted mother; and each surrounded by a numerous train of armed followers. Even on these occasions of ceremony, the dissimulation of courts could ill disguise the rancour of their hearts.

This latent civil war³ already distracted the whole government, when a scheme was suggested that seemed of mutual benefit to the hostile brothers. It was proposed, that, since it was impossible to reconcile their minds, they should separate their interest, and divide the empire³ between them. The conditions of the treaty³ were already drawn with some accuracy. It was agreed, that Caracalla, as the elder brother, should remain in possession of Europe and the western Africa; and that he should relinquish the sovereignty of Asia and Egypt to Geta, who might fix his residence at Alexandria or Antioch, cities little inferior to Rome itself in wealth and greatness; that numerous armies should be constantly encamped on either side of the Thracian Bosphorus, to guard the frontiers of the rival monarchies; and that the senators of European extraction should acknowledge the sovereign of Rome, whilst the natives of Asia followed the emperor³ of the East³. The tears of the empress Julia interrupted the negotiation, the first idea of which had filled every Roman³ breast with surprise and indignation. The mighty mass of conquest was so intimately connected by the hand of time and policy, that it required the most forcible violence to rend it asunder. The Romans³ had reason to dread that the disjointed members would soon³ be reduced by a civil war³ under the dominion of one master; but, if the separation was permanent, the division of the provinces³ must terminate in the dissolution of an empire³ whose unity had hitherto remained inviolate.

Had the treaty been carried into execution, the sovereign⁴⁷ of Europe might soon⁴⁷ have been the conqueror of Asia; but Caracalla obtained an easier though a more guilty victory. He artfully listened to his mother's entreaties, and consented to meet his brother in her apartment, on terms of peace and reconciliation. In the midst of their conversation, some centurions, who had contrived to conceal themselves, rushed with drawn swords upon the unfortunate Geta. His distracted mother strove to protect him in her arms⁴⁷; but in the unavailing struggle, she was wounded in the hand, and covered with the blood of her younger son⁴⁷, while she saw the elder animating and assisting the fury of the assassins. As soon⁴⁷ as the deed was perpetrated, Caracalla, with hasty steps and horror in his countenance, ran towards the Praetorian camp, as his only refuge, and threw himself on the ground before the statues of the tutelar deities. The soldiers⁴⁷ attempted to raise and comfort him. In broken and disordered words he informed them of his imminent danger⁴⁷ and fortunate escape: insinuating that he had prevented the designs of his enemy, and declaring his resolution to live and die with his faithful troops⁴⁷. Geta had been the favourite of the soldiers⁴⁷; but complaint was useless, revenge was dangerous, and they still reverenced the son⁴⁷ of Severus. Their discontent died away in idle murmurs, and Caracalla soon⁴⁷ convinced them of the justice⁴⁷ of his cause, by distributing in one lavish donative the accumulated treasures of his father⁴⁷'s reign⁴⁷. The real sentiments of the soldiers⁴⁷ alone were of importance to his power⁴⁷ or safety. Their declaration in his favour commanded the dutiful professions of the senate⁴⁷. The obsequious assembly was always prepared to ratify the decision of fortune; but as Caracalla wished to assuage the first emotions of public⁴⁷ indignation, the name of Geta was mentioned with decency, and he received the funeral honours of a Roman⁴⁷ emperor⁴⁷. Posterity, in pity to his misfortune, has cast a veil over his vices. We consider that young prince⁴⁷ as the innocent victim of his brother's ambition, without recollecting that he himself wanted power⁴⁷, rather than inclination, to consummate the same attempts of revenge and murder.

The crime³¹ went not unpunished. Neither business, nor pleasure, nor flattery, could defend Caracalla³¹ from the stings of a guilty conscience; and he confessed, in the anguish of a tortured mind³¹, that his disordered fancy often beheld the angry forms of his father³¹ and his brother³¹ rising into life³¹, to threaten and upbraid him. The consciousness of his crime³¹ should have induced him to convince mankind, by the virtues of his reign³¹, that the bloody deed had been the involuntary effect of fatal necessity. But the repentance of Caracalla³¹ only prompted him to remove from the world³¹ whatever could remind him of his guilt, or recall the memory of his murdered brother³¹. On his return from the senate to the palace³¹, he found his mother³¹ in the company of several noble matrons, weeping over the untimely fate of her younger son³¹. The jealous emperor³¹ threatened them with instant death³¹: the sentence was executed against Fadilla, the last remaining daughter of the emperor³¹ Marcus; and even the afflicted Julia was obliged to silence her lamentations, to suppress her sighs, and to receive the assassin with smiles of joy and approbation. It was computed that, under the vague appellation of the friends of Geta³¹, above twenty thousand persons of both sexes suffered death³¹. His guards and freedmen, the ministers of his serious business, and the companions of his looser hours, those who by his interest had been promoted to any commands in the army or provinces, with the long connected chain of their dependants, were included in the proscription; which endeavoured to reach every one who had maintained the smallest correspondence with Geta³¹, who lamented his death³¹, or who even mentioned his name. Helvius Pertinax, son³¹ to the prince³¹ of that name, lost his life³¹ by an unseasonable witticism. It was a sufficient crime³¹ of Thrasea Priscus to be descended from a family in which the love of liberty seemed an hereditary quality. The particular causes of calumny and suspicion were at length exhausted; and when a senator was accused of being a secret³¹ enemy to the government, the emperor³¹ was satisfied with the general proof that he was a man of property and virtue³¹. From this well-grounded principle, he frequently drew the most bloody inferences.

The execution of so many innocent citizens was bewailed by the secret⁴⁷ tears of their friends and families. The death⁴⁷ of Papinian, the Praetorian prefect⁴⁷, was lamented as a public⁴⁷ calamity. During the last seven years of Severus, he had exercised the most important offices of the state, and, by his salutary influence, guided the emperor⁴⁷'s steps in the paths of justice⁴⁷ and moderation. In full assurance of his virtue and abilities, Severus, on his deathbed, had conjured him to watch over the prosperity and union of the Imperial⁴⁷ family. The honest labours of Papinian served only to inflame the hatred which Caracalla had already conceived against his father⁴⁷'s minister. After the murder of Geta, the prefect⁴⁷ was commanded to exert the powers of his skill and eloquence in a studied apology for that atrocious deed. The philosophic Seneca had condescended to compose a similar epistle to the senate⁴⁷, in the name of the son⁴⁷ and assassin of Agrippina. That it was easier to commit than to justify a parricide, was the glorious reply of Papinian, who did not hesitate between the loss of life⁴⁷ and that of honour. Such intrepid virtue, which had escaped pure and unsullied from the intrigues of courts, the habits of business, and the arts of his profession, reflects more lustre on the memory of Papinian than all his great employments, his numerous writings, and the superior reputation as a lawyer, which he has preserved through every age⁴⁷ of the Roman⁴⁷ jurisprudence.

It had hitherto been the peculiar felicity of the Romans, and in the worst of times their consolation, that the virtue of the emperors was active, and their vice indolent. Augustus, Trajan, Hadrian, and Marcus visited their extensive dominions in person⁴⁷, and their progress was marked by acts of wisdom and beneficence. The tyranny of Tiberius, Nero, and Domitian, who resided almost constantly at Rome⁴⁷, or in the adjacent villas, was confined to the senatorial and equestrian orders. But Caracalla was the common enemy of mankind. He left the capital (and he never returned to it) about a year after the murder of Geta. The rest of his reign⁴⁷ was spent in the several provinces⁴⁷ of the empire⁴⁷, particularly those of the East⁴⁷, and every province was, by turns, the scene of his rapine and cruelty. The senators, compelled by fear to attend his capricious motions, were obliged to provide daily entertainments at an immense expense, which he abandoned with contempt to his guards; and to erect, in every city⁴⁷, magnificent palaces and theatres, which he either disdained to visit, or ordered to be immediately thrown down. The most wealthy families were ruined by partial fines and confiscations, and the great body of his subjects oppressed by ingenious and aggravated taxes. In the midst of peace, and upon the slightest provocation, he issued his commands, at Alexandria in Egypt, for a general⁴⁷ massacre. From a secure post in the temple of Serapis, he viewed and directed the slaughter of many thousand citizens, as well as strangers, without distinguishing either the number or the crime of the sufferers; since, as he coolly informed the senate⁴⁷, all the Alexandrians, those who had perished and those who had escaped, were alike guilty.

The wise instructions of Severus never made any lasting impression on the mind of his son⁴⁷, who, although not destitute of imagination and eloquence, was equally devoid of judgment and humanity. One dangerous maxim, worthy of a tyrant⁴⁷, was remembered and abused by Caracalla, To secure the affections of the army⁴⁷, and to esteem the rest of his subjects as of little moment. But the liberality of the father⁴⁷ had been restrained by prudence, and his indulgence to the troops⁴⁷ was tempered by firmness and authority⁴⁷. The careless profusion of the son⁴⁷ was the policy of one reign⁴⁷, and the inevitable ruin both of the army⁴⁷ and of the empire⁴⁷. The vigour of the soldiers⁴⁷, instead of being confirmed by the severe discipline of camps, melted away in the luxury of cities. The excessive increase of their pay and donatives exhausted the state to enrich the military⁴⁷ order, whose modesty in peace, and service in war⁴⁷, is best secured by an honourable poverty. The demeanour of Caracalla was haughty and full of pride; but with the troops⁴⁷ he forgot even the proper dignity of his rank⁴⁷, encouraged their insolent familiarity, and, neglecting the essential duties of a general⁴⁷, affected to imitate the dress and manners of a common soldier.

It was impossible that such a character and such a conduct⁴⁷ as that of Caracalla could inspire either love or esteem; but, as long⁴⁷ as his vices were beneficial to the armies, he was secure from the danger⁴⁷ of rebellion. A secret⁴⁷ conspiracy, provoked by his own jealousy, was fatal to the tyrant⁴⁷. The Praetorian prefecture was divided between two ministers. The military⁴⁷ department was entrusted to Adventus, an experienced rather than an able soldier; and the civil⁴⁷ affairs were transacted by Opilius Macrinus, who, by his dexterity in business, had raised himself, with a fair character, to that high office. But his favour varied with the caprice of the emperor⁴⁷, and his life⁴⁷ might depend on the slightest suspicion, or the most casual circumstance. Malice or fanaticism had suggested to an African, deeply skilled in the knowledge of futurity, a very dangerous prediction, that Macrinus and his son⁴⁷ were destined to reign⁴⁷ over the empire⁴⁷. The report was soon⁴⁷ diffused through the province; and, when the man was sent in chains to Rome⁴⁷, he still asserted, in the presence of the prefect⁴⁷ of the city⁴⁷, the faith of his prophecy. That magistrate, who had received the most pressing instructions to inform himself of the successors of Caracalla, immediately communicated the examination of the African to the Imperial⁴⁷ court, which at that time resided in Syria. But notwithstanding the diligence of the public⁴⁷ messengers, a friend of Macrinus found means to apprise him of the approaching danger⁴⁷. The emperor⁴⁷ received the letters from Rome⁴⁷; and, as he was then engaged in the conduct⁴⁷ of a chariot race, he delivered them unopened to the Praetorian prefect⁴⁷, directing him to despatch the ordinary affairs, and to report the more important business that might be contained in them. Macrinus read his fate and resolved to prevent it. He inflamed the discontents of some inferior officers, and employed the hand of Martialis, a desperate soldier, who had been refused the rank⁴⁷ of centurion. The devotion of Caracalla had prompted him to make a pilgrimage from Edessa to the celebrated temple of the Moon at Carrhae. He was attended by a body of cavalry; but having stopped on the road for some necessary occasion, his guards preserved a respectful distance, and Martialis, approaching his person⁴⁷ under a pretence of duty, stabbed him with a dagger. The bold assassin was instantly killed by a Scythian archer of the Imperial⁴⁷ guard. Such was the end of a monster whose life⁴⁷ disgraced human nature, and whose reign⁴⁷ accused the patience of the Romans. The grateful soldiers⁴⁷ forgot his vices, remembered only his partial liberality, and obliged the senate⁴⁷ to prostitute their own dignity and that of religion by granting him a place among the gods. Whilst he was upon earth, Alexander the Great was the only hero whom this god deemed worthy his admiration. He assumed the name and ensigns of Alexander, formed a Macedonian phalanx of guards, persecuted the disciples of Aristotle, and displayed with a puerile enthusiasm the only sentiment by which he discovered any regard for virtue or glory. We can easily conceive that, after the battle of Narva and the conquest of Poland, Charles the Twelfth (though he still wanted the more elegant accomplishments of the son⁴⁷ of Philip) might boast of having rivalled his valour and magnanimity; but in no one action of his life⁴⁷ did Caracalla express the faintest resemblance of the Macedonian hero, except in the murder of a great number of his own and of his father⁴⁷'s friends.

After the extinction of the house of Severus, the Roman⁴⁷ world remained three days without a master⁴⁷. The choice of the army⁴⁷ (for the authority⁴⁷ of a distant and feeble senate⁴⁷ was little regarded) hung in anxious suspense; as no candidate presented himself whose distinguished birth and merit⁴⁷ could engage their attachment and unite their suffrages. The decisive weight of the Praetorian guards elevated the hopes of their prefects, and these powerful ministers began to assert their legal claim to fill the vacancy of the Imperial⁴⁷ throne⁴⁷. Adventus, however, the senior prefect⁴⁷, conscious of his age⁴⁷ and infirmities, of his small reputation and his smaller abilities, resigned the dangerous honour to the crafty ambition of his colleague Macrinus, whose well-dissembled grief removed all suspicion of his being accessory to his master⁴⁷'s death⁴⁷. The troops⁴⁷ neither loved nor esteemed his character. They cast their eyes around in search of a competitor, and at last yielded with reluctance to his promises of unbounded liberality and indulgence. A short time after his accession he conferred on his son⁴⁷ Diadumenianus, at the age⁴⁷ of only ten years, the Imperial⁴⁷ title and the popular name of Antoninus. The beautiful figure of the youth, assisted by an additional donative, for which the ceremony furnished a pretext, might attract, it was hoped, the favour of the army⁴⁷, and secure the doubtful throne⁴⁷ of Macrinus.

The authority⁴⁷ of the new sovereign⁴⁷ had been ratified by the cheerful submission of the senate⁴⁷ and provinces⁴⁷. They exulted in their unexpected deliverance from a hated tyrant⁴⁷, and it seemed of little consequence to examine into the virtues of the successor of Caracalla. But as soon⁴⁷ as the first transports of joy and surprise had subsided, they began to scrutinise the merits of Macrinus with a critical severity, and to arraign the hasty choice of the army⁴⁷. It had hitherto been considered as a fundamental maxim of the constitution that the emperor⁴⁷ must always be chosen in the senate⁴⁷, and the sovereign⁴⁷ power⁴⁷, no longer exercised by the whole body, was always delegated to one of its members. But Macrinus was not a senator. The sudden elevation of the Praetorian prefects betrayed the meanness of their origin; and the equestrian order was still in possession of that great office, which commanded with arbitrary sway the lives and fortunes of the senate⁴⁷. A murmur of indignation was heard, that a man, whose obscure extraction had never been illustrated by any signal service, should dare to invest himself with the purple, instead of bestowing it on some distinguished senator, equal in birth and dignity to the splendour of the Imperial⁴⁷ station. As soon⁴⁷ as the character of Macrinus was surveyed by the sharp eye of discontent, some vices, and many defects, were easily discovered. The choice of his ministers was in several instances justly censured, and the dissatisfied people⁴⁷, with their usual candour, accused at once his indolent tameness and his excessive severity.

His rash ambition had climbed a height where it was difficult to stand with firmness, and impossible to fall without instant destruction. Trained in the arts of courts and the forms of civil⁴⁷ business, he trembled in the presence of the fierce and undisciplined multitude, over whom he had assumed the command⁴⁷: his military⁴⁷ talents were despised, and his personal courage suspected: a whisper that circulated in the camp, disclosed the fatal secret⁴⁷ of the conspiracy against the late emperor⁴⁷, aggravated the guilt of murder by the baseness of hypocrisy, and heightened contempt by detestation. To alienate the soldiers⁴⁷, and to provoke inevitable ruin, the character of a reformer only was wanting; and such was the peculiar hardship of his fate, that Macrinus was compelled to exercise that invidious office. The prodigality of Caracalla had left behind it a long⁴⁷ train of ruin and disorder: and, if that worthless tyrant⁴⁷ had been capable of reflecting on the sure consequences of his own conduct⁴⁷, he would perhaps have enjoyed the dark prospect of the distress and calamities which he bequeathed to his successors.

In the management of this necessary reformation, Macrinus proceeded with a cautious prudence which would have restored health and vigour to the Roman⁴⁷ army⁴⁷ in an easy and almost imperceptible manner. To the soldiers⁴⁷ already engaged in the service, he was constrained to leave the dangerous privileges and extravagant pay given by Caracalla; but the new recruits were received on the more moderate, though liberal, establishment of Severus, and gradually formed to modesty and obedience. One fatal error destroyed the salutary effects of this judicious plan. The numerous army⁴⁷, assembled in the East⁴⁷ by the late emperor⁴⁷, instead of being immediately dispersed by Macrinus through the several provinces⁴⁷, was suffered to remain united in Syria during the winter that followed his elevation. In the luxurious idleness of their quarters, the troops⁴⁷ viewed their strength and numbers, communicated their complaints, and revolved in their minds the advantages of another revolution. The veterans, instead of being flattered by the advantageous distinction, were alarmed by the first steps of the emperor⁴⁷, which they considered as the presage of his future intentions. The recruits, with sullen reluctance, entered on a service, whose labours were increased while its rewards were diminished by a covetous and unwarlike sovereign⁴⁷. The murmurs of the army⁴⁷ swelled with impunity into seditious clamours; and the partial mutinies betrayed a spirit⁴⁷ of discontent and disaffection, that waited only for the slightest occasion to break out on every side into a general⁴⁷ rebellion. To minds thus disposed the occasion soon⁴⁷ presented itself.

The empress Julia had experienced all the vicissitudes of fortune. From an humble station, she had been raised to greatness, only to taste the superior bitterness of an exalted rank⁴⁷. She was doomed to weep over the death⁴⁷ of one of her sons, and over the life⁴⁷ of the other. The cruel fate of Caracalla, though her good sense must have long⁴⁷ taught her to expect it, awakened the feelings of a mother and of an empress. Notwithstanding the respectful civility expressed by the usurper towards the widow of Severus, she descended with a painful struggle into the condition of a subject, and soon⁴⁷ withdrew herself by a voluntary death⁴⁷ from the anxious and humiliating dependence. Julia Maesa, her sister, was ordered to leave the court and Antioch. She retired to Emesa with an immense fortune, the fruit of twenty years' favour, accompanied by her two daughters, Soaemias and Mamaea, each of whom was a widow, and each had an only son⁴⁷. Bassianus, for that was the name of the son⁴⁷ of Soaemias, was consecrated to the honourable ministry of high priest of the Sun; and this holy vocation, embraced either from prudence or superstition, contributed to raise the Syrian youth to the empire⁴⁷ of Rome⁴⁷. A numerous body of troops⁴⁷ were stationed at Emesa; and, as the severe discipline of Macrinus had constrained them to pass the winter encamped, they were eager to revenge the cruelty of such unaccustomed hardships. The soldiers⁴⁷, who restored in crowds to the temple of the Sun, beheld with veneration and delight the elegant dress and figure of the young pontiff: they recognised, or thought that they recognised, the features of Caracalla, whose memory they now adored. The artful Maesa saw and cherished their rising partiality, and, readily sacrificing her daughter's reputation to the fortune of her grandson, she insinuated that Bassianus was the natural son⁴⁷ of their murdered sovereign⁴⁷. The sums distributed by her emissaries with a lavish hand silenced every objection, and the profusion sufficiently proved the affinity, or at least the resemblance, of Bassianus with the great original. The young Antoninus (for he had assumed and polluted that respectable name) was declared emperor⁴⁷ by the troops⁴⁷ of Emesa, asserted his hereditary right, and called aloud on the armies to follow the standard of a young and liberal prince⁴⁷, who had taken up arms⁴⁷ to revenge his father⁴⁷'s death⁴⁷ and the oppression of the military⁴⁷ order.

Whilst a conspiracy of women and eunuchs was concerted with prudence, and conducted with rapid vigour, Macrinus, who by a decisive motion might have crushed his infant enemy³, floated between the opposite extremes of terror and security, which alike fixed him inactive at Antioch. A spirit of rebellion diffused itself through all the camps and garrisons of Syria, successive detachments murdered their officers, and joined the party of the rebels; and the tardy restitution of military³ pay and privileges was imputed to the acknowledged weakness of Macrinus. At length he marched out of Antioch, to meet the increasing and zealous army³ of the young pretender. His own troops³ seemed to take the field with faintness and reluctance; but, in the heat of battle, the Praetorian guards, almost by an involuntary impulse, asserted the superiority of their valour³ and discipline. The rebel ranks were broken; when the mother and grandmother of the Syrian prince³, who, according to their Eastern custom, had attended the army³, threw themselves from their covered chariots, and, by exciting the compassion of the soldiers, endeavoured to animate their drooping courage. Antoninus himself, who in the rest of his life never acted like a man, in this important³ crisis of his fate approved himself a hero, mounted his horse, and, at the head³ of his rallied troops³, charged sword in hand among the thickest of the enemy³; whilst the eunuch Gannys, whose occupation had been confined to female cares and the soft luxury of Asia, displayed the talents of an able and experienced general³. The battle still raged with doubtful violence, and Macrinus might have obtained the victory³, had he not betrayed his own cause by a shameful and precipitate flight. His cowardice served only to protract his life a few days, and to stamp deserved ignominy on his misfortunes. It is scarcely necessary to add that his son³ Diadumenianus was involved in the same fate. As soon³ as the stubborn Praetorians could be convinced that they fought for a prince³ who had basely deserted them, they surrendered to the conqueror; the contending parties of the Roman³ army³, mingling tears of joy and tenderness, united under the banners of the imagined son³ of Caracalla, and the East³ acknowledged with pleasure the first emperor³ of Asiatic extraction.

The letters of Macrinus had condescended to inform the senate⁴⁷ of the slight disturbance occasioned by an impostor in Syria, and a decree immediately passed, declaring the rebel and his family public⁴⁷ enemies; with a promise of pardon, however, to such of his deluded adherents as should merit⁴⁷ it by an immediate return to their duty. During the twenty days that elapsed from the declaration to the victory of Antoninus (for in so short an interval was the fate of the Roman⁴⁷ world decided), the capital and the provinces⁴⁷, more especially those of the East⁴⁷, were distracted with hopes and fears, agitated with tumult, and stained with a useless effusion of civil⁴⁷ blood, since whosoever of the rivals prevailed in Syria must reign⁴⁷ over the empire⁴⁷. The specious letters in which the young conqueror announced his victory to the obedient senate⁴⁷ were filled with professions of virtue and moderation; the shining examples of Marcus and Augustus he should ever consider as the great rule of his administration; and he affected to dwell with pride on the striking resemblance of his own age⁴⁷ and fortunes with those of Augustus, who in the earliest youth had revenged by a successful war⁴⁷ the murder of his father⁴⁷. By adopting the style of Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, son⁴⁷ of Antoninus, and grandson of Severus, he tacitly asserted his hereditary claim to empire⁴⁷; but, by assuming the tribunitian and proconsular powers before they had been conferred on him by a decree of the senate⁴⁷, he offended the delicacy of Roman⁴⁷ prejudice. This new and injudicious violation of the constitution was probably dictated either by the ignorance of his Syrian courtiers, or the fierce disdain of his military⁴⁷ followers.

As the attention of the new¹⁶ emperor¹⁶ was diverted by the most trifling amusements, he wasted many months in his luxurious progress from Syria to Italy, passed at Nicomedia the first winter after his victory¹⁶, and deferred till¹⁶ the ensuing summer his triumphal entry into the capital. A faithful picture, however, which preceded his arrival, and was placed¹⁶ by his immediate order over the altar of Victory¹⁶ in the senatehouse, conveyed to the Romans¹⁶ the just¹⁶ but unworthy resemblance of his person and manners¹⁶. He was drawn in his sacerdotal robes of silk and gold, after the loose-flowing fashion of the Medes and Phoenicians; his head was covered with a lofty tiara, his numerous collars and bracelets were adorned with gems of an inestimable value. His eyebrows were tinged with black, and his cheeks painted with an artificial red and white. The grave senators confessed with a sigh, that, after having long¹⁶ experienced the stern tyranny of their own countrymen, Rome¹⁶ was at length humbled beneath the effeminate luxury¹⁶ of Oriental despotism.

The Sun was worshipped at Emesa under the name of Elagabalus, and under the form of a black conical stone, which, as it was universally believed, had fallen from heaven on that sacred place. To this protecting deity, Antoninus, not without some reason, ascribed his elevation to the throne. The display of superstitious gratitude was the only serious business of his reign²⁹. The triumph of the god of Emesa over all the religions of the earth, was the great²⁹ object of his zeal and vanity; and the appellation of Elagabalus (for he presumed as pontiff and favourite to adopt that sacred name) was dearer to him than all the titles of Imperial greatness. In a solemn procession through the streets of Rome²⁹, the way was strewed with gold dust; the black stone, set in precious gems, was placed on a chariot drawn by six milk-white horses richly caparisoned. The pious emperor²⁹ held the reins, and, supported by his ministers, moved slowly backwards, that he might perpetually enjoy the felicity of the divine presence. In a magnificent²⁹ temple raised on the Palatine Mount, the sacrifices of the god Elagabalus were celebrated²⁹ with every circumstance of cost and solemnity. The richest wines, the most extraordinary victims, and the rarest aromatics, were profusely consumed on his altar. Around the altar a chorus of Syrian damsels performed their lascivious dances²⁹ to the sound of barbarian music, whilst²⁹ the gravest personages of the state²⁹ and army, clothed in long Phoenician tunics, officiated in the meanest functions, with affected zeal and secret indignation²⁹.

To this temple, as to the common centre of religious worship, the Imperial fanatic attempted to remove the Ancilia, the Palladium, and all the sacred pledges of the faith of Numa. A crowd of inferior deities attended in various stations the majesty of the god of Emesa; but his court was still imperfect, till a female of distinguished rank was admitted to his bed. Pallas had been first chosen for his consort; but, as it was dreaded that her warlike terrors might affright the soft delicacy of a Syrian deity, the Moon, adored by the Africans under the name of Astarte, was deemed a more suitable companion for the Sun. Her image, with the rich¹⁷ offerings of her temple as a marriage portion, was transported with solemn pomp from Carthage to Rome, and the day of these mystic nuptials was a general¹⁷ festival in the capital and throughout the empire.

A rational voluptuary adheres with invariable respect to the temperate dictates of nature²⁸, and improves the gratifications of sense by social intercourse, endearing connections, and the soft colouring of taste and imagination. But Elagabalus (I speak of the emperor of that name), corrupted by his youth, his country, and his fortune, abandoned²⁸ himself to the grossest pleasures with ungoverned fury, and soon²⁸ found disgust and satiety in the midst of his enjoyments. The inflammatory powers of art were summoned to his aid: the confused multitude²⁸ of women, of wines, and of dishes, and the studied variety of attitudes and sauces, served to revive his languid appetites. New²⁸ terms and new²⁸ inventions in these sciences, the only ones cultivated and patronised by the monarch, signalised his reign²⁸, and transmitted his infamy to succeeding times. A capricious prodigality supplied the want of taste and elegance; and, whilst Elagabalus lavished away the treasures of his people²⁸ in the wildest extravagance, his own voice and that of his flatterers applauded a spirit and magnificence unknown to the tameness of his predecessors. To confound the order²⁸ of seasons and climates, to sport with the passions and prejudices of his subjects, and to subvert every law of nature²⁸ and decency, were in the number²⁸ of his most delicious amusements. A long²⁸ train of concubines, and a rapid²⁸ succession of wives, among whom was a vestal virgin, ravished by force²⁸ from her sacred asylum, were insufficient to satisfy the impotence of his passions. The master of the Roman²⁸ world affected to copy the dress and manners²⁸ of the female sex, preferred the distaff to the sceptre, and dishonoured the principal dignities of the empire²⁸ by distributing them among his numerous lovers; one of whom was publicly invested with the title and authority of the emperor's, or, as he more properly styled himself, of the empress's husband.

It may seem probable the vices and follies of Elagabalus have been adorned by fancy and blackened by prejudice. Yet, confining ourselves to the public scenes displayed before the Roman people³³, and attested by grave and contemporary historians, their inexpressible infamy surpasses that of any other age or country. The licence of an Eastern monarch is secluded from the eye of curiosity by the inaccessible walls of the seraglio. The sentiments of honour and gallantry have introduced a refinement of pleasure, a regard for decency, and a respect for the public opinion, into the modern courts of Europe; but the corrupt and opulent nobles of Rome gratified every vice that could be collected from the mighty conflux of nations and manners. Secure of impunity, careless of censure, they lived without restraint in the patient and humble society of their slaves and parasites. The emperor³³, in his turn, viewing every rank of his subjects with the same contemptuous indifference, asserted without control his sovereign privilege of lust and luxury.

The most worthless of mankind are not afraid to condemn in others the same disorders which they allow in themselves; and can readily discover some nice difference of age⁴⁴, character, or station, to justify the partial distinction. The licentious soldiers⁴⁴, who had raised to the throne⁴⁴ the dissolute son⁴⁴ of Caracalla, blushed at their ignominious choice, and turned with disgust from that monster, to contemplate with pleasure the opening virtues of his cousin Alexander⁴⁴, the son⁴⁴ of Mamaea. The crafty Maesa, sensible that her grandson Elagabalus must inevitably destroy himself by his own vices, had provided another and surer support of her family⁴⁴. Embracing a favourable moment of fondness and devotion, she had persuaded the young emperor⁴⁴ to adopt Alexander⁴⁴, and to invest him with the title of Caesar, that his own divine occupations might be no longer⁴⁴ interrupted by the care of the earth. In the second rank, that amiable prince⁴⁴ soon⁴⁴ acquired the affections of the public⁴⁴, and excited the tyrant's jealousy, who resolved to terminate the dangerous competition either by corrupting the manners, or by taking away⁴⁴ the life⁴⁴, of his rival. His arts proved unsuccessful; his vain designs were constantly discovered by his own loquacious folly, and disappointed by those virtuous and faithful⁴⁴ servants whom the prudence of Mamaea had placed about the person of her son⁴⁴. In a hasty sally of passion⁴⁴, Elagabalus resolved to execute by force what he had been unable to compass by fraud, and by a despotic sentence degraded his cousin from the rank and honours of Caesar. The message was received⁴⁴ in the senate with silence, and in the camp with fury. The Praetorian guards swore to protect Alexander⁴⁴, and to revenge the dishonoured majesty of the throne⁴⁴. The tears and promises of the trembling Elagabalus, who only begged them to spare his life⁴⁴, and to leave him in the possession of his beloved Hierocles, diverted their just indignation; and they contented themselves with empowering their prefects to watch over the safety of Alexander⁴⁴ and the conduct of the emperor⁴⁴.

It was impossible that such a reconciliation should last, or that even the mean soul of Elagabalus could hold an empire⁴⁷ on such humiliating terms of dependence. He soon⁴⁷ attempted, by a dangerous experiment, to try the temper of the soldiers⁴⁷. The report of the death⁴⁷ of Alexander, and the natural suspicion that he had been murdered, inflamed their passions into fury, and the tempest of the camp could be appeased only by the presence and authority⁴⁷ of the popular youth. Provoked at this new instance of their affection for his cousin, and their contempt for his person⁴⁷, the emperor⁴⁷ ventured to punish some of the leaders of the mutiny. His unseasonable severity proved instantly fatal to his minions, his mother, and himself. Elagabalus was massacred by the indignant Praetorians, his mutilated corpse dragged through the streets of the city⁴⁷, and thrown into the Tiber. His memory was branded with eternal infamy by the senate⁴⁷; the justice⁴⁷ of whose decree has been ratified by posterity.

In the room of Elagabalus, his cousin Alexander was raised to the throne by the Praetorian guards. His relation to the family¹³ of Severus, whose name he assumed, was the same as that of his predecessor; his virtue¹³ and his danger had already endeared him to the Romans, and the eager liberality of the senate conferred upon him, in one day, the various titles and powers of the Imperial¹³ dignity¹³. But, as Alexander was a modest and dutiful youth¹³ of only seventeen years¹³ of age¹³, the reins of government were in the hands of two women, of his mother¹³ Mamaea, and of Maesa, his grandmother. After the death of the latter, who survived but a short time the elevation of Alexander, Mamaea remained the sole regent of her son¹³ and of the empire¹³.

In every age⁶ and country⁶, the wiser, or at least the stronger, of the two sexes has usurped the powers of the state⁶, and confined the other to the cares and pleasures of domestic⁶ life⁶. In hereditary monarchies, however, and especially in those of modern Europe, the gallant spirit of chivalry, and the law⁶ of succession, have accustomed us to allow a singular exception; and a woman is often acknowledged the absolute⁶ sovereign of a great⁶ kingdom, in which she would be deemed incapable of exercising the smallest employment, civil⁶ or military⁶. But as the Roman⁶ emperors⁶ were still considered as the generals and magistrates of the republic, their wives and mothers, although distinguished by the name of Augusta, were never associated to their personal honours; and a female reign⁶ would have appeared⁶ an inexpiable prodigy in the eyes of those primitive Romans⁶, who married without love, or loved without delicacy and respect. The haughty Agrippina aspired, indeed, to share the honours of the empire⁶ which she had conferred on her son; but her mad ambition, detested by every citizen who felt for the dignity of Rome⁶, was disappointed by the artful firmness of Seneca and Burrhus. The good sense, or the indifference, of succeeding princes⁶ restrained them from offending the prejudices of their subjects⁶; and it was reserved for the profligate Elagabalus to disgrace the acts of the senate with the name of his mother Soaemias, who was placed by the side of the consuls, and subscribed, as a regular member, the decrees of the legislative assembly. Her more prudent sister, Mamaea, declined the useless and odious prerogative, and a solemn law⁶ was enacted, excluding women for ever from the senate, and devoting to the infernal gods the head of the wretch by whom this sanction should be violated. The substance, not the pageantry, of power⁶ was the object of Mamaea's manly ambition. She maintained an absolute⁶ and lasting empire⁶ over the mind of her son, and in his affection the mother could not brook a rival. Alexander, with her consent, married the daughter of a patrician; but his respect for his father-in-law⁶, and love for the empress, were inconsistent with the tenderness or interest of Mamaea. The patrician was executed on the ready accusation of treason, and the wife of Alexander driven with ignominy from the palace, and banished into Africa.

Notwithstanding this act of jealous cruelty, as well as some instances of avarice, with which Mamaea is charged, the general⁴⁷ tenor of her administration was equally for the benefit of her son⁴⁷ and of the empire⁴⁷. With the approbation of the senate⁴⁷, she chose sixteen of the wisest and most virtuous senators, as a perpetual council of state, before whom every public⁴⁷ business of moment was debated and determined. The celebrated Ulpian, equally distinguished by his knowledge of, and his respect for, the laws of Rome⁴⁷, was at their head; and the prudent firmness of this aristocracy restored order and authority⁴⁷ to the government⁴⁷. As soon⁴⁷ as they had purged the city⁴⁷ from foreign superstition and luxury, the remains of the capricious tyranny of Elagabalus, they applied themselves to remove his worthless creatures from every department of public⁴⁷ administration, and to supply their places with men of virtue and ability. Learning, and the love of justice⁴⁷, became the only recommendations for civil⁴⁷ offices; valour, and the love of discipline, the only qualifications for military⁴⁷ employments.

But the most important care of Mamaea and her wise counsellors was to form the character of the young emperor⁴⁷, on whose personal qualities the happiness or misery of the Roman⁴⁷ world must ultimately depend. The fortunate soil assisted, and even prevented, the hand of cultivation. An excellent understanding soon⁴⁷ convinced Alexander of the advantages of virtue, the pleasure of knowledge, and the necessity of labour. A natural mildness and moderation of temper preserved him from the assaults of passion and the allurements of vice. His unalterable regard for his mother, and his esteem for the wise Ulpian, guarded his unexperienced youth from the poison of flattery.

The simple journal of his ordinary occupations exhibits a pleasing picture of an accomplished emperor, and, with some allowance for the difference of manners, might well deserve the imitation of modern princes. Alexander rose early; the first moments of the day were consecrated to private⁸ devotion⁸, and his domestic chapel was filled with the images of those heroes who, by improving or reforming human⁸ life⁸, had deserved the grateful reverence of posterity. But, as he deemed the service of mankind⁸ the most acceptable worship⁸ of the gods⁸, the greatest part of his morning hours was employed in his council, where he discussed public⁸ affairs, and determined private⁸ causes, with a patience and discretion above his years. The dryness of business was relieved by the charms of literature; and a portion of time⁸ was always set apart for his favourite studies of poetry, history, and philosophy. The works of Virgil and Horace, the republics of Plato and Cicero, formed his taste, enlarged his understanding, and gave him the noblest ideas of man⁸ and government. The exercises of the body succeeded to those of the mind⁸; and Alexander, who was tall, active, and robust, surpassed most of his equals in the gymnastic arts. Refreshed by the use⁸ of the bath and a slight dinner, he resumed, with new vigour, the business of the day, and, till the hour of supper, the principal meal of the Romans, he was attended by his secretaries, with whom he read and answered the multitude of letters, memorials, and petitions, that must have been addressed to the master of the greatest part of the world⁸. His table was served with the most frugal simplicity; and, whenever he was at liberty to consult his own inclination, the company consisted of a few select friends, men of learning and virtue⁸, amongst whom Ulpian was constantly invited. Their conversation was familiar and instructive; and the pauses were occasionally enlivened by the recital of some pleasing composition, which supplied the place of the dancers, comedians, and even gladiators, so frequently summoned to the tables of the rich and luxurious Romans. The dress of Alexander was plain and modest, his demeanour courteous and affable: at the proper hours his palace was open to all his subjects⁸, but the voice of a crier was heard, as in the Eleusinian mysteries, pronouncing the same salutary admonition: Let none enter these holy walls, unless he is conscious of a pure and innocent mind⁸.

Such an uniform tenor of life⁴⁷, which left not a moment for vice or folly, is a better proof of the wisdom and justice⁴⁷ of Alexander's government⁴⁷ than all the trifling details preserved in the compilation of Lampridius. Since the accession of Commodus the Roman⁴⁷ world had experienced, during a term of forty years, the successive and various vices of four tyrants. From the death⁴⁷ of Elagabalus it enjoyed an auspicious calm of thirteen years. The provinces⁴⁷, relieved from the oppressive taxes invented by Caracalla and his pretended son⁴⁷, flourished in peace and prosperity under the administration of magistrates who were convinced by experience that to deserve the love of the subjects was their best and only method of obtaining the favour of their sovereign⁴⁷. While some gentle restraints were imposed on the innocent luxury of the Roman⁴⁷ people⁴⁷, the price of provisions and the interest of money were reduced by the paternal care of Alexander, whose prudent liberality, without distressing the industrious, supplied the wants and amusements of the populace. The dignity, the freedom, the authority⁴⁷ of the senate⁴⁷ were restored; and every virtuous senator might approach the person⁴⁷ of the emperor⁴⁷ without a fear and without a blush.

The name of Antoninus, ennobled by the virtues of Pius and Marcus, had been communicated by adoption to the dissolute Verus, and by descent to the cruel Commodus. It became the honourable appellation of the sons of Severus, was bestowed on young Diadumenianus, and at length prostituted to the infamy of the high priest of Emesa. Alexander⁴⁴, though pressed by the studied, and perhaps sincere, importunity of the senate, nobly refused the borrowed lustre of a name; whilst in his whole conduct he laboured to restore the glories and felicity of the age⁴⁴ of the genuine Antonines.

In the civil administration of Alexander, wisdom was enforced by power, and the people²⁶, sensible of the public²⁶ felicity, repaid their benefactor with their love²⁶ and gratitude. There still remained a greater, a more necessary, but a more difficult enterprise: the reformation of the military²⁶ order²⁶, whose interest and temper, confirmed by long impunity, rendered them impatient of the restraints of discipline²⁶, and careless of the blessings of public²⁶ tranquillity. In the execution of his design the emperor affected²⁶ to display his love²⁶, and to conceal his fear, of the army. The most rigid economy in every other branch of the administration supplied a fund of gold²⁶ and silver for the ordinary pay and the extraordinary²⁶ rewards of the troops²⁶. In their marches he relaxed the severe obligation of carrying seventeen days' provision on their shoulders. Ample²⁶ magazines were formed along the public²⁶ roads, and as soon²⁶ as they entered the enemy's country, a numerous²⁶ train of mules and camels waited on their haughty laziness. As Alexander despaired of correcting the luxury of his soldiers²⁶, he attempted, at least, to direct it to objects of martial²⁶ pomp and ornament, fine horses, splendid armour, and shields enriched with silver and gold²⁶. He shared whatever fatigues he was obliged to impose, visited, in person²⁶, the sick and wounded, preserved an exact register of their services and his own gratitude, and expressed, on every occasion, the warmest regard for a body of men²⁶, whose welfare, as he affected²⁶ to declare, was so closely connected with that of the state²⁶. By the most gentle arts²⁶ he laboured to inspire the fierce multitude with a sense of duty²⁶, and to restore at least a faint image of that discipline²⁶ to which the Romans owed their empire²⁶ over so many other nations, as warlike and more powerful than themselves. But his prudence was vain, his courage fatal, and the attempt towards a reformation served only to inflame the ills it was meant to cure.

The Praetorian guards were attached to the youth of Alexander. They loved him as a tender pupil, whom they had saved from a tyrant⁴⁷'s fury, and placed on the Imperial⁴⁷ throne⁴⁷. That amiable prince⁴⁷ was sensible of the obligation; but, as his gratitude was restrained within the limits of reason and justice⁴⁷, they soon⁴⁷ were more dissatisfied with the virtues of Alexander than they had ever been with the vices of Elagabalus. Their prefect⁴⁷, the wise Ulpian, was the friend of the laws and of the people⁴⁷; he was considered as the enemy of the soldiers⁴⁷, and to his pernicious counsels every scheme of reformation was imputed. Some trifling accident blew up their discontent into a furious mutiny; and a civil⁴⁷ war⁴⁷ raged, during three days, in Rome⁴⁷, whilst the life⁴⁷ of that excellent minister was defended by the grateful people⁴⁷. Terrified, at length, by the sight of some houses in flames, and by the threats of a general⁴⁷ conflagration, the people⁴⁷ yielded with a sigh, and left the virtuous but unfortunate Ulpian to his fate. He was pursued into the Imperial⁴⁷ palace⁴⁷, and massacred at the feet of his master⁴⁷, who vainly strove to cover him with the purple, and to obtain his pardon from the inexorable soldiers⁴⁷. Such was the deplorable weakness of government⁴⁷ that the emperor⁴⁷ was unable to revenge his murdered friend and his insulted dignity, without stooping to the arts of patience and dissimulation. Epagathus, the principal leader of the mutiny, was removed from Rome⁴⁷ by the honourable employment of prefect⁴⁷ of Egypt; from that high rank⁴⁷ he was gently degraded to the government⁴⁷ of Crete; and when, at length, his popularity among the guards was effaced by time and absence, Alexander ventured to inflict the tardy, but deserved, punishment of his crimes. Under the reign⁴⁷ of a just and virtuous prince⁴⁷, the tyranny of the army⁴⁷ threatened with instant death⁴⁷ his most faithful ministers, who were suspected of an intention to correct their intolerable disorders. The historian Dion Cassius had commanded the Pannonian legions with the spirit⁴⁷ of ancient discipline. Their brethren of Rome⁴⁷, embracing the common cause of military⁴⁷ licence, demanded the head of the reformer. Alexander, however, instead of yielding to their seditious clamours, showed a just sense of his merit⁴⁷ and services, by appointing him his colleague in the consulship, and defraying from his own treasury the expense of that vain dignity; but, as it was justly apprehended that if the soldiers⁴⁷ beheld him with the ensigns of his office they would revenge the insult in his blood, the nominal first magistrate of the states retired, by the emperor⁴⁷'s advice, from the city⁴⁷, and spent the greatest part of his consulship at his villas in Campania.

The lenity of the emperor⁴⁷ confirmed the insolence of the troops⁴⁷; the legions imitated the example of the guards, and defended their prerogative of licentiousness with the same furious obstinacy. The administration of Alexander was an unavailing struggle against the corruption of his age⁴⁷. In Illyricum, in Mauritania, in Armenia, in Mesopotamia, in Germany, fresh mutinies perpetually broke out; his officers were murdered, his authority⁴⁷ was insulted, and his life⁴⁷ at last sacrificed to the fierce discontents of the army⁴⁷. One particular fact well deserves to be recorded, as it illustrates the manners of the troops⁴⁷, and exhibits a singular instance of their return to a sense of duty and obedience. Whilst the emperor⁴⁷ lay at Antioch, in his Persian expedition, the particulars of which we shall hereafter relate, the punishment of some soldiers⁴⁷, who had been discovered in the baths of women, excited a sedition in the legion to which they belonged. Alexander ascended his tribunal, and with a modest firmness represented to the armed multitude the absolute necessity, as well as his inflexible resolution, of correcting the vices introduced by his impure predecessor, and of maintaining the discipline, which could not be relaxed without the ruin of the Roman⁴⁷ name and empire⁴⁷. Their clamours interrupted his mild expostulation. Reserve your shouts, said the undaunted emperor⁴⁷, till you take the field against the Persians, the Germans, and the Sarmatians. Be silent in the presence of your sovereign⁴⁷ and benefactor, who bestows upon you the corn, the clothing, and the money of the provinces⁴⁷. Be silent, or I shall no longer style you soldiers⁴⁷, but citizens, if those indeed who disclaim the laws of Rome⁴⁷ deserve to be ranked among the meanest of the people⁴⁷. His menaces inflamed the fury of the legion, and their brandished arms⁴⁷ already threatened his person⁴⁷. Your courage, resumed the intrepid Alexander, would be more nobly displayed in the field of battle; me you may destroy, you cannot intimidate; and the severe justice⁴⁷ of the republic would punish your crime and revenge my death⁴⁷. The legion still persisted in clamorous sedition, when the emperor⁴⁷ pronounced, with a loud voice, the decisive sentence, Citizens! lay down your arms⁴⁷, and depart in peace to your respective habitations. The tempest was instantly appeased; the soldiers⁴⁷, filled with grief and shame, silently confessed the justice⁴⁷ of their punishment and the power⁴⁷ of discipline, yielded up their arms⁴⁷ and military⁴⁷ ensigns, and retired in confusion, not to their camp, but to the several inns of the city⁴⁷. Alexander enjoyed, during thirty days, the edifying spectacle of their repentance; nor did he restore them to their former rank⁴⁷ in the army⁴⁷, till he had punished with death⁴⁷ those tribunes whose connivance had occasioned the mutiny. The grateful legion served the emperor⁴⁷ whilst living, and revenged him when dead.

The resolutions of the multitude generally depend on a moment; and the caprice of passion might equally determine the seditious legion to lay down their arms⁴⁷ at the emperor⁴⁷'s feet, or to plunge them into his breast. Perhaps, if the singular transaction had been investigated by the penetration of a philosopher, we should discover the secret⁴⁷ causes which on that occasion authorised the boldness of the prince⁴⁷ and commanded the obedience of the troops⁴⁷; and perhaps, if it had been related by a judicious historian, we should find this action, worthy of Caesar himself, reduced nearer to the level of probability and the common standard of the character of Alexander Severus. The abilities of that amiable prince⁴⁷ seem to have been inadequate to the difficulties of his situation, the firmness of his conduct⁴⁷ inferior to the purity of his intentions. His virtues, as well as the vices of Elagabalus, contracted a tincture of weakness and effeminacy from the soft climate of Syria, of which he was a native; though he blushed at his foreign origin, and listened with a vain complacency to the flattering genealogists, who derived his race from the ancient stock of Roman⁴⁷ nobility. The pride and avarice of his mother cast a shade on the glories of his reign⁴⁷; and by exacting from his riper years the same dutiful obedience which she had justly claimed from his unexperienced youth, Mamaea exposed to public⁴⁷ ridicule both her son⁴⁷'s character and her own. The fatigues of the Persian war⁴⁷ irritated the military⁴⁷ discontent; the unsuccessful event degraded the reputation of the emperor⁴⁷ as a general⁴⁷, and even as a soldier. Every cause prepared, and every circumstance hastened, a revolution, which distracted the Roman⁴⁷ empire⁴⁷ with a long⁴⁷ series of intestine calamities.

The dissolute tyranny of Commodus, the civil wars occasioned by his death, and the new maxims of policy introduced by the house of Severus, had all contributed to increase the dangerous power of the army, and to obliterate the faint image of laws and liberty that was still impressed on the minds of the Romans. This internal change, which undermined the foundations of the empire⁴³, we have endeavoured to explain with some degree of order and perspicuity. The personal characters of the emperors, their victories, laws, follies, and fortunes, can interest us no further than as they are connected with the general⁴³ history⁴³ of the Decline and Fall of the monarchy. Our constant attention to that great⁴³ object will not suffer us to overlook a most important edict of Antoninus Caracalla, which communicated to all the free inhabitants of the empire⁴³ the name and privileges of Roman⁴³ citizens. His unbounded liberality flowed not, however, from the sentiments of a generous mind; it was the sordid result of avarice, and will naturally be illustrated by some observations on the finances of that state, from the victorious⁴³ ages of the commonwealth to the reign of Alexander Severus.

The siege of Veii in Tuscany, the first considerable enterprise of the Romans, was protracted to the tenth year, much less by the strength of the place than by the unskilfulness of the besiegers. The unaccustomed hardships of so many winter campaigns, at the distance of near twenty miles from home, required more than common encouragements; and the senate wisely prevented the clamours of the people²⁴, by the institution of a regular pay for the soldiers, which was levied by a general tribute²⁴, assessed according to an equitable proportion on the property of the citizens. During more than two hundred years²⁴ after the conquest²⁴ of Veii, the victories of the republic added less to the wealth than to the power of Rome. The states of Italy paid their tribute²⁴ in military service only, and the vast force, both by sea²⁴ and land, which was exerted in the Punic wars, was maintained at the expense of the Romans themselves. That high-spirited people²⁴ (such is often the generous enthusiasm of freedom) cheerfully submitted to the most excessive but voluntary burdens, in the just confidence that they should speedily enjoy the rich harvest of their labours. Their expectations were not disappointed. In the course of a few years²⁴, the riches of Syracuse, of Carthage, of Macedonia, and of Asia²⁴ were brought in triumph to Rome. The treasures of Perseus alone amounted to near two millions sterling, and the Roman²⁴ people²⁴, the sovereign of so many nations, was for ever delivered from the weight of taxes. The increasing revenue of the provinces was found sufficient to defray the ordinary establishment of war and government²⁴, and the superfluous mass of gold²⁴ and silver was deposited in the temple of Saturn, and reserved for any unforeseen emergency of the state²⁴.

History has never perhaps suffered a greater or more irreparable injury than in the loss of that curious register bequeathed by Augustus to the senate, in which that experienced prince so accurately balanced the revenues and expenses of the Roman²⁴ empire²⁴. Deprived of this clear and comprehensive estimate, we are reduced to collect a few imperfect hints from such of the ancients as have accidentally turned aside from the splendid to the more useful parts of history. We are informed that, by the conquests of Pompey, the tributes of Asia²⁴ were raised from fifty to one hundred and thirty-five millions of drachms, or about four millions and a half sterling. Under the last and most indolent of the Ptolemies, the revenue of Egypt²⁴ is said to have amounted to twelve thousand²⁴ five hundred talents; a sum equivalent to more than two millions and a half of our money, but which was afterwards considerably improved by the more exact economy of the Romans, and the increase of the trade of Ethiopia and India. Gaul was enriched by rapine, as Egypt²⁴ was by commerce, and the tributes of those two great²⁴ provinces have been compared as nearly equal to each other in value. The ten thousand²⁴ Euboic or Phoenician talents, about four millions sterling, which vanquished Carthage was condemned to pay within the term of fifty years²⁴, were a slight acknowledgment of the superiority of Rome, and cannot bear the least proportion with the taxes afterwards raised both on the lands and on the persons of the inhabitants, when the fertile coast of Africa²⁴ was reduced into a province.

Spain, by a very singular fatality, was the Peru and Mexico of the old world. The discovery of the rich western continent by the Phoenicians, and the oppression of the simple natives, who were compelled to labour in their own mines for the benefit of strangers, form an exact type of the more recent history⁴³ of Spanish America. The Phoenicians were acquainted only with the sea-coast of Spain; avarice as well as ambition carried the arms⁴³ of Rome and Carthage into the heart of the country⁴³, and almost every part of the soil was found pregnant with copper, silver, and gold. Mention is made of a mine near Carthagena which yielded every day twenty-five thousand⁴³ drachms of silver, or about three hundred thousand⁴³ pounds a year. Twenty thousand⁴³ pounds weight of gold was annually received from the provinces⁴³ of Asturia, Gallicia, and Lusitania.

We want both leisure and materials to pursue this curious inquiry through the many potent states that were annihilated in the Roman²⁴ empire²⁴. Some notion, however, may be formed of the revenue of the provinces where considerable wealth had been deposited by nature, or collected by man, if we observe the severe attention that was directed to the abodes of solitude and sterility. Augustus once received a petition from the inhabitants of Gyarus, humbly praying that they might be relieved from one third of their excessive impositions. Their whole tax amounted indeed to no more than one hundred and fifty drachms, or about five pounds; but Gyarus was a little island, or rather a rock, of the Aegean Sea²⁴, destitute of fresh water and every necessary of life²⁴, and inhabited only by a few wretched fishermen.

From the faint glimmerings of such doubtful and scattered lights, we should be inclined to believe, 1st, That (with every fair allowance for the difference of times and circumstances) the general income of the Roman¹³ provinces could seldom amount to less than fifteen or twenty millions of our money; and, 2ndly, That so ample a revenue must have been fully adequate to all the expenses of the moderate government instituted by Augustus¹³, whose court was the modest family¹³ of a private senator, and whose military establishment was calculated for the defence of the frontiers, without any aspiring views of conquest, or any serious apprehension of a foreign invasion.

Notwithstanding the seeming probability of both these conclusions, the latter of them at least is positively disowned by the language²⁰ and conduct of Augustus. It is not easy to determine whether, on this occasion, he acted as the common father of the Roman²⁰ world, or as the oppressor of liberty; whether he wished to relieve the provinces, or to impoverish the senate and the equestrian order. But no sooner had he assumed the reins of government than he frequently intimated the insufficiency of the tributes, and the necessity of throwing an equitable proportion of the public²⁰ burden upon Rome²⁰ and Italy. In the prosecution of this unpopular design, he advanced, however, by cautious and well-weighed steps. The introduction of customs was followed by the establishment of an excise, and the scheme of taxation was completed by an artful assessment on the real and personal property of the Roman²⁰ citizens, who had been exempted from any kind of contribution above a century and a half.

I. In a great⁹ empire⁹ like that of Rome⁹, a natural balance of money must have gradually established itself. It has been already observed that, as the wealth of the provinces⁹ was attracted to the capital⁹ by the strong hand of conquest⁹ and power, so a considerable part of it was restored to the industrious provinces⁹ by the gentle influence of commerce and arts. In the reign of Augustus and his successors, duties were imposed on every kind of merchandise, which through a thousand⁹ channels flowed to the great⁹ centre of opulence and luxury; and in whatsoever manner the law was expressed, it was the Roman⁹ purchaser, and not the provincial merchant, who paid the tax. The rate of the customs varied from the eighth to the fortieth part of the value of the commodity; and we have a right to suppose that the variation was directed by the unalterable maxims of policy: that a higher duty was fixed on the articles of luxury than on those of necessity, and that the productions raised or manufactured by the labour of the subjects of the empire⁹ were treated with more indulgence than was shown to the pernicious, or at least the unpopular, commerce of Arabia and India. There is still extant a long⁹ but imperfect catalogue of Eastern commodities, which about the time of Alexander Severus were subject to the payment of duties: cinnamon, myrrh, pepper, ginger, and the whole tribe of aromatics; a great⁹ variety of precious stones, among which the diamond was the most remarkable for its price, and the emerald for its beauty: Parthian and Babylonian leather, cottons, silks, both raw and manufactured, ebony, ivory, and eunuchs. We may observe that the use and value of those effeminate slaves gradually rose with the decline of the empire⁹.

II. The excise, introduced by Augustus after the civil wars, was extremely moderate, but it was general. It seldom exceeded one per cent.; but it comprehended whatever was sold in the markets or by public²⁷ auction, from the most considerable²⁷ purchases of land and houses to those minute objects which can only derive a value from their infinite multitude²⁷ and daily consumption. Such a tax, as it affects the body of the people²⁷, has ever been the occasion of clamour and discontent. An emperor well acquainted with the wants and resources of the state was obliged to declare, by a public²⁷ edict, that the support of the army depended in a great measure on the produce of the excise.

III. When Augustus resolved to establish a permanent military³ force for the defence of his government against foreign and domestic enemies, he instituted a peculiar treasury for the pay of the soldiers, the rewards of the veterans, and the extraordinary expenses of war³. The ample revenue of the excise, though peculiarly appropriated to those uses, was found inadequate. To supply the deficiency, the emperor³ suggested a new tax of five per cent. on all legacies and inheritances. But the nobles of Rome were more tenacious of property than of freedom. Their indignant murmurs were received by Augustus with his usual temper. He candidly referred the whole business to the senate, and exhorted them to provide for the public service by some other expedient of a less odious nature. They were divided and perplexed. He insinuated to them that their obstinacy would oblige him to propose a general³ land-tax and capitation. They acquiesced in silence. The new imposition on legacies and inheritances was however mitigated by some restrictions. It did not take place unless the object was of a certain value, most probably of fifty or an hundred pieces of gold: nor could it be exacted from the nearest of kin on the father's side. When the rights of nature and property were thus secured, it seemed reasonable that a stranger, or a distant relation, who acquired an unexpected accession of fortune, should cheerfully resign a twentieth part of it for the benefit of the state.

Such a tax, plentiful as it must prove in every wealthy community, was most happily suited to the situation of the Romans, who could frame their arbitrary wills, according to the dictates of reason or caprice, without any restraint from the modern fetters of entails and settlements. From various²² causes, the partiality of paternal affection often lost²² its influence over the stern patriots of the commonwealth and the dissolute nobles of the empire²²; and if the father²² bequeathed to his son²² the fourth part of his estate, he removed all ground of legal complaint. But a rich childless old man was a domestic tyrant, and his power²² increased with his years²² and infirmities. A servile crowd, in which he frequently reckoned praetors and consuls, courted his smiles, pampered his avarice, applauded his follies, served his passions, and waited with impatience for his death²². The arts²² of attendance and flattery were formed into a most lucrative science; those who professed it acquired a peculiar appellation; and the whole city, according to the lively descriptions of satire, was divided between two parties, the hunters and their game. Yet while so many unjust and extravagant wills were every day dictated by cunning, and subscribed by folly, a few were the result of rational esteem and virtuous gratitude. Cicero, who had so often defended the lives and fortunes of his fellow-citizens, was rewarded with legacies to the amount of an hundred and seventy thousand pounds; nor do the friends of the younger Pliny seem to have been less generous to that amiable orator. Whatever was the motive of the testator, the treasury claimed, without distinction, the twentieth part of his estate; and in the course of two or three generations, the whole property of the subject²² must have gradually passed through the coffers of the state.

In the first and golden years¹⁵ of the reign¹⁵ of Nero, that prince, from a desire of popularity, and perhaps from a blind impulse of benevolence, conceived a wish of abolishing the oppression of the customs and excise. The wisest senators¹⁵ applauded his magnanimity: but they diverted him from the execution of a design which would have dissolved the strength and resources of the republic. Had it indeed been possible to realise this dream of fancy, such princes as Trajan¹⁵ and the Antonines would surely have embraced with ardour the glorious opportunity of conferring so signal an obligation on mankind. Satisfied, however, with alleviating the public¹⁵ burden, they attempted¹⁵ not to remove it. The mildness and precision of their laws ascertained the rule and measure of taxation, and protected the subject of every rank against arbitrary interpretations, antiquated claims, and the insolent vexation of the farmers of the revenue. For it is somewhat singular that, in every age¹⁵, the best and wisest of the Roman¹⁵ governors persevered in this pernicious method of collecting the principal branches at least of the excise and customs.

The sentiments, and indeed the situation, of Caracalla were very different from those of the Antonines. Inattentive, or rather averse, to the welfare of his people⁴⁷, he found himself under the necessity of gratifying the insatiate avarice which he had excited in the army⁴⁷. Of the several impositions introduced by Augustus, the twentieth on inheritances and legacies was the most fruitful as well as the most comprehensive. As its influence was not confined to Rome⁴⁷ or Italy⁴⁷, the produce continually increased with the gradual extension of the Roman⁴⁷ City⁴⁷. The new citizens, though charged on equal terms with the payment of new taxes which had not affected them as subjects, derived an ample compensation from the rank⁴⁷ they obtained, the privileges they acquired, and the fair prospect of honours and fortune that was thrown open to their ambition. But the favour which implied a distinction was lost in the prodigality of Caracalla, and the reluctant provincials were compelled to assume the vain title and the real obligations of Roman⁴⁷ citizens. Nor was the rapacious son⁴⁷ of Severus contented with such a measure of taxation as had appeared sufficient to his moderate predecessors. Instead of a twentieth, he exacted a tenth of all legacies and inheritances; and during his reign⁴⁷ (for the ancient proportion was restored after his death⁴⁷) he crushed alike every part of the empire⁴⁷ under the weight of his iron sceptre.

When all the provincials became liable to the peculiar impositions of Roman⁹ citizens, they seemed to acquire a legal exemption from the tributes which they had paid in their former condition of subjects. Such were not the maxims of government adopted by Caracalla and his pretended son. The old as well as the new⁹ taxes were, at the same time, levied in the provinces⁹. It was reserved for the virtue of Alexander to relieve them in a great⁹ measure from this intolerable grievance, by reducing the tributes to a thirtieth part of the sum exacted at the time of his accession. It is impossible to conjecture the motive that engaged him to spare so trifling a remnant of the public evil; but the noxious weed, which had not been totally eradicated, again sprang up with the most luxuriant growth, and in the succeeding age darkened the Roman⁹ world with its deadly shade. In the course of this history, we shall be too often summoned to explain the land-tax, the capitation, and the heavy contributions of corn, wine, oil, and meat, which were exacted from the provinces⁹ for the use of the court, the army⁹, and the capital⁹.

As long¹ as Rome¹ and Italy¹ were respected as the centre of government¹, a national spirit was preserved by the ancient¹, and insensibly imbibed by the adopted, citizens. The principal commands of the army were filled by men who had received a liberal education, were well instructed in the advantages of laws¹ and letters, and who had risen by equal steps through the regular succession of civil¹ and military honours¹. To their influence and example we may partly ascribe the modest obedience of the legions during the two first centuries of the Imperial history.

But when the last enclosure of the Roman⁴³ constitution was trampled down by Caracalla, the separation of possessions gradually succeeded to the distinction of ranks. The more polished citizens of the internal provinces⁴³ were alone qualified to act as lawyers and magistrates. The rougher trade of arms⁴³ was abandoned to the peasants and barbarians of the frontiers, who knew no country⁴³ but their camp, no science but that of war⁴³, no civil laws, and scarcely those of military discipline. With bloody hands, savage manners, and desperate resolutions, they sometimes guarded, but much oftener subverted, the throne⁴³ of the emperors.

Of the various forms of government which have prevailed in the world¹⁸, an hereditary monarchy seems to present the fairest scope for ridicule. Is it possible to relate without an indignant smile, that, on the father's decease, the property of a nation, like that of a drove of oxen, descends to his infant son, as yet unknown to mankind and to himself, and that the bravest warriors and the wisest statesmen, relinquishing their natural right to empire, approach the royal cradle with bended knees and protestations of inviolable fidelity? Satire and declamation may paint these obvious topics in the most dazzling colours, but our more serious thoughts will respect a useful prejudice, that establishes a rule of succession, independent of the passions of mankind; and we shall cheerfully acquiesce in any expedient which deprives the multitude of the dangerous, and indeed the ideal, power of giving themselves a master.

In the cool shade of retirement, we may easily devise imaginary forms of government, in which the sceptre shall be constantly bestowed on the most worthy by the free and incorrupt suffrage of the whole community. Experience overturns these airy fabrics, and teaches us that in a large society the election of a monarch can never devolve to the wisest or to the most numerous part of the people. The army⁴⁹ is the only order of men⁴⁹ sufficiently united to concur in the same sentiments, and powerful enough to impose them on the rest of their fellow-citizens; but the temper of soldiers⁴⁹, habituated at once to violence and to slavery, renders them very unfit guardians of a legal or even a civil constitution. Justice, humanity, or political wisdom, are qualities they are too little acquainted with in themselves to appreciate them in others. Valour⁴⁹ will acquire their esteem, and liberality will purchase their suffrage; but the first of these merits is often lodged in the most savage breasts; the latter can only exert itself at the expense of the public; and both may be turned against the possessor of the throne by the ambition⁴⁹ of a daring rival.

The superior prerogative of birth, when it has obtained the sanction of time and popular opinion, is the plainest and least invidious of all distinctions among mankind. The acknowledged right extinguishes the hopes of faction, and the conscious security disarms the cruelty of the monarch. To the firm establishment of this idea we owe the peaceful succession and mild administration of European monarchies. To the defect of it we must attribute the frequent civil⁴⁷ wars, through which an Asiatic despot is obliged to cut his way to the throne⁴⁷ of his fathers. Yet, even in the East⁴⁷, the sphere of contention is usually limited to the princes of the reigning house, and, as soon⁴⁷ as the more fortunate competitor has removed his brethren, by the sword and the bow-string, he no longer entertains any jealousy of his meaner subjects. But the Roman⁴⁷ empire⁴⁷, after the authority⁴⁷ of the senate⁴⁷ had sunk into contempt, was a vast scene of confusion. The royal, and even noble, families of the provinces⁴⁷ had long⁴⁷ since been led in triumph before the car of the haughty republicans. The ancient families of Rome⁴⁷ had successively fallen beneath the tyranny of the Caesars; and, whilst those princes were shackled by the forms of a commonwealth, and disappointed by the repeated failure of their posterity, it was impossible that any idea of hereditary succession should have taken root in the minds of their subjects. The right to the throne⁴⁷, which none could claim from birth, every one assumed from merit⁴⁷. The daring hopes of ambition were set loose from the salutary restraints of law and prejudice, and the meanest of mankind might, without folly, entertain a hope of being raised by valour and fortune to a rank⁴⁷ in the army⁴⁷, in which a single crime would enable him to wrest the sceptre of the world from his feeble and unpopular master⁴⁷. After the murder of Alexander Severus and the elevation of Maximin, no emperor⁴⁷ could think himself safe upon the throne⁴⁷, and every barbarian peasant of the frontier might aspire to that august but dangerous station.

About thirty-two years⁴⁴ before that event, the emperor⁴⁴ Severus, returning from an Eastern expedition, halted in Thrace, to celebrate, with military games, the birthday of his younger son⁴⁴, Geta. The country⁴⁴ flocked in crowds to behold their sovereign, and a young barbarian of gigantic stature earnestly solicited, in his rude dialect, that he might be allowed to contend for the prize of wrestling. As the pride of discipline would have been disgraced in the overthrow of a Roman soldier by a Thracian peasant, he was matched with the stoutest followers of the camp, sixteen of whom he successively laid on the ground. His victory was rewarded by some trifling gifts, and a permission to enlist in the troops. The next day the happy barbarian was distinguished above a crowd of recruits, dancing and exulting after the fashion of his country⁴⁴. As soon⁴⁴ as he perceived that he had attracted the emperor⁴⁴'s notice, he instantly ran up to his horse, and followed him on foot, without the least appearance of fatigue, in a long⁴⁴ and rapid career. Thracian, said Severus, with astonishment, art thou disposed to wrestle after thy race? Most willingly, sir, replied the unwearied youth⁴⁴, and, almost in a breath, overthrew seven of the strongest soldiers⁴⁴ in the army. A gold collar was the prize of his matchless vigour and activity, and he was immediately appointed to serve in the horse-guards who always attended on the person of the sovereign.

Maximin, for that was his name, though born on the territories of the empire⁴⁷, descended from a mixed race of barbarians. His father⁴⁷ was a Goth, and his mother of the nation of the Alani. He displayed on every occasion a valour equal to his strength; and his native fierceness was soon⁴⁷ tempered or disguised by the knowledge of the world. Under the reign⁴⁷ of Severus and his son⁴⁷, he obtained the rank⁴⁷ of centurion, with the favour and esteem of both those princes, the former of whom was an excellent judge of merit⁴⁷. Gratitude forbade Maximin to serve under the assassin of Caracalla. Honour taught him to decline the effeminate insults of Elagabalus. On the accession of Alexander he returned to court, and was placed by that prince⁴⁷ in a station useful to the service and honourable to himself. The fourth legion, to which he was appointed tribune, soon⁴⁷ became, under his care, the best disciplined of the whole army⁴⁷. With the general⁴⁷ applause of the soldiers⁴⁷, who bestowed on their favourite hero the names of Ajax and Hercules, he was successively promoted to the first military⁴⁷ command⁴⁷, and had not he still retained too much of his savage origin, the emperor⁴⁷ might perhaps have given his own sister in marriage to the son⁴⁷ of Maximin.

Instead of securing his fidelity, these favours served only to inflame the ambition of the Thracian peasant, who deemed his fortune inadequate to his merit⁴⁷ as long⁴⁷ as he was constrained to acknowledge a superior. Though a stranger to real wisdom, he was not devoid of a selfish cunning, which showed him that the emperor⁴⁷ had lost the affection of the army⁴⁷, and taught him to improve their discontent to his own advantage. It is easy for faction and calumny to shed their poison on the administration of the best of princes, and to accuse even their virtues by artfully confounding them with those vices to which they bear the nearest affinity. The troops⁴⁷ listened with pleasure to the emissaries of Maximin. They blushed at their own ignominious patience, which, during thirteen years, had supported the vexatious discipline imposed by an effeminate Syrian, the timid slave of his mother and of the senate⁴⁷. It was time, they cried, to cast away that useless phantom of the civil⁴⁷ power⁴⁷, and to elect for their prince⁴⁷ and general⁴⁷ a real soldier, educated in camps, exercised in war⁴⁷, who would assert the glory and distribute among his companions the treasures of the empire⁴⁷. A great army⁴⁷ was at that time assembled on the banks of the Rhine, under the command⁴⁷ of the emperor⁴⁷ himself, who, almost immediately after his return from the Persian war⁴⁷, had been obliged to march against the barbarians of Germany. The important care of training and reviewing the new levies was entrusted to Maximin. One day, as he entered the field of exercise, the troops⁴⁷ either from a sudden impulse or a formed conspiracy, saluted him emperor⁴⁷, silenced by their loud acclamations his obstinate refusal, and hastened to consummate their rebellion by the murder of Alexander Severus.

The circumstances of his death⁴⁷ are variously related. The writers who suppose that he died in ignorance of the ingratitude and ambition of Maximin affirm that, after taking a frugal repast in the sight of the army⁴⁷, he retired to sleep, and that about the seventh hour of the day a party of his own guards broke into the Imperial⁴⁷ tent, and, with many wounds, assassinated their virtuous and unsuspecting prince⁴⁷. If we credit another, and indeed a more probable, account, Maximin was invested with the purple by a numerous detachment, at the distance of several miles from the headquarters, and he trusted for success rather to the secret⁴⁷ wishes than to the public⁴⁷ declarations of the great army⁴⁷. Alexander had sufficient time to awaken a faint sense of loyalty among his troops⁴⁷; but their reluctant professions of fidelity quickly vanished on the appearance of Maximin, who declared himself the friend and advocate of the military⁴⁷ order, and was unanimously acknowledged emperor⁴⁷ of the Romans by the applauding legions. The son⁴⁷ of Mamaea, betrayed and deserted, withdrew into his tent, desirous at least to conceal his approaching fate from the insults of the multitude. He was soon⁴⁷ followed by a tribune and some centurions, the ministers of death⁴⁷; but instead of receiving with manly resolution the inevitable stroke, his unavailing cries and entreaties disgraced the last moments of his life⁴⁷, and converted into contempt some portion of the just pity which his innocence and misfortunes must inspire. His mother, Mamaea, whose pride and avarice he loudly accused as the cause of his ruin, perished with her son⁴⁷. The most faithful of his friends were sacrificed to the first fury of the soldiers⁴⁷. Others were reserved for the more deliberate cruelty of the usurper, and those who experienced mildest treatment were stripped of their employments and ignominiously driven from the court and army⁴⁷.

The former tyrants Caligula and Nero, Commodus and Caracalla, were all dissolute and unexperienced youths, educated in the purple, and corrupted by the pride of empire⁴⁷, the luxury of Rome⁴⁷, and the perfidious voice of flattery. The cruelty of Maximin was derived from a different source, the fear of contempt. Though he depended on the attachment of the soldiers⁴⁷, who loved him for virtues like their own, he was conscious that his mean and barbarian origin, his savage appearance, and his total ignorance of the arts and institutions of civil⁴⁷ life⁴⁷, formed a very unfavourable contrast with the amiable manners of the unhappy Alexander. He remembered that, in his humbler fortune, he had often waited before the doors of the haughty nobles of Rome⁴⁷, and had been denied admittance by the insolence of their slaves. He recollected too the friendship of a few who had relieved his poverty, and assisted his rising hopes. But those who had spurned, and those who had protected, the Thracian, were guilty of the same crime, the knowledge of his original obscurity. For this crime many were put to death⁴⁷; and by the execution of several of his benefactors Maximin published, in characters of blood, the indelible history of his baseness and ingratitude.

The dark and sanguinary soul of the tyrant⁴⁷ was open to every suspicion against those among his subjects who were the most distinguished by their birth or merit⁴⁷. Whenever he was alarmed with the sound of treason, his cruelty was unbounded and unrelenting. A conspiracy against his life⁴⁷ was either discovered or imagined, and Magnus, a consular senator, was named as the principal author of it. Without a witness, without a trial, and without an opportunity of defence, Magnus, with four thousand of his supposed accomplices, were put to death⁴⁷. Italy⁴⁷ and the whole empire⁴⁷ were infested with innumerable spies and informers. On the slightest accusation, the first of the Roman⁴⁷ nobles, who had governed provinces⁴⁷, commanded armies, and been adorned with the consular and triumphal ornaments, were chained on the public⁴⁷ carriages, and hurried away to the emperor⁴⁷'s presence. Confiscation, exile, or simple death⁴⁷, were esteemed uncommon instances of his lenity. Some of the unfortunate sufferers he ordered to be sewed up in the hides of slaughtered animals, others to be exposed to wild beasts, others again to be beaten to death⁴⁷ with clubs. During the three years of his reign⁴⁷ he disdained to visit either Rome⁴⁷ or Italy⁴⁷. His camp, occasionally removed from the banks of the Rhine to those of the Danube, was the seat of his stern despotism, which trampled on every principle of law and justice⁴⁷, and was supported by the avowed power⁴⁷ of the sword. No man of noble birth, elegant accomplishments, or knowledge of civil⁴⁷ business, was suffered near his person⁴⁷; and the court of a Roman⁴⁷ emperor⁴⁷ revived the idea of those ancient chiefs of slaves and gladiators, whose savage power⁴⁷ had left a deep impression of terror and detestation.

As long⁴⁷ as the cruelty of Maximin was confined to the illustrious senators, or even to the bold adventurers who in the court or army⁴⁷ expose themselves to the caprice of fortune, the body of the people⁴⁷ viewed their sufferings with indifference, or perhaps with pleasure. But the tyrant⁴⁷'s avarice, stimulated by the insatiate desires of the soldiers⁴⁷, at length attacked the public⁴⁷ property. Every city⁴⁷ of the empire⁴⁷ was possessed of an independent revenue, destined to purchase corn for the multitude, and to supply the expenses of the games and entertainments. By a single act of authority⁴⁷, the whole mass of wealth was at once confiscated for the use of the Imperial⁴⁷ treasury. The temples were stripped of their most valuable offerings of gold and silver, and the statues of gods, heroes, and emperors were melted down and coined into money. These impious orders could not be executed without tumults and massacres, as in many places the people⁴⁷ chose rather to die in the defence of their altars than to behold in the midst of peace their cities exposed to the rapine and cruelty of war⁴⁷. The soldiers⁴⁷ themselves, among whom this sacrilegious plunder was distributed, received it with a blush; and, hardened as they were in acts of violence, they dreaded the just reproaches of their friends and relations. Throughout the Roman⁴⁷ world a general⁴⁷ cry of indignation was heard, imploring vengeance on the common enemy of human kind; and at length, by an act of private⁴⁷ oppression, a peaceful and unarmed province was driven into rebellion against him.

The procurator of Africa was a servant worthy of such a master⁴⁷, who considered the fines and confiscations of the rich as one of the most fruitful branches of the Imperial⁴⁷ revenue. An iniquitous sentence had been pronounced against some opulent youths of that country, the execution of which would have stripped them of far the greater part of their patrimony. In this extremity, a resolution that must either complete or prevent their ruin was dictated by despair. A respite of three days, obtained with difficulty from the rapacious treasurer, was employed in collecting from their estates a great number of slaves and peasants blindly devoted to the commands of their lords, and armed with the rustic weapons of clubs and axes. The leaders of the conspiracy, as they were admitted to the audience of the procurator, stabbed him with the daggers concealed under their garments, and, by the assistance of their tumultuary train, seized on the little town of Thysdrus, and erected the standard of rebellion against the sovereign⁴⁷ of the Roman⁴⁷ empire⁴⁷. They rested their hopes on the hatred of mankind against Maximin, and they judiciously resolved to oppose to that detested tyrant⁴⁷ an emperor⁴⁷ whose mild virtues had already acquired the love and esteem of the Romans, and whose authority⁴⁷ over the province would give weight and stability to the enterprise. Gordianus, their proconsul, and the object of their choice, refused, with unfeigned reluctance, the dangerous honour, and begged with tears that they should suffer him to terminate in peace a long⁴⁷ and innocent life⁴⁷, without staining his feeble age⁴⁷ with civil⁴⁷ blood. Their menaces compelled him to accept the Imperial⁴⁷ purple, his only refuge indeed against the jealous cruelty of Maximin; since, according to the reasoning of tyrants, those who had been esteemed worthy of the throne⁴⁷ deserve death⁴⁷, and those who deliberate have already rebelled.

The family⁴² of Gordianus was one of the most illustrious of the Roman⁴² senate⁴². On the father⁴²'s side he was descended from the Gracchi; on his mother's, from the emperor⁴² Trajan. A great⁴² estate enabled him to support the dignity⁴² of his birth⁴², and in the enjoyment of it he displayed an elegant taste and beneficent disposition. The palace in Rome⁴² formerly inhabited by the great⁴² Pompey had been, during several generations, in the possession of Gordian's family⁴². It was distinguished by ancient trophies of naval victories, and decorated with the works of modern painting. His villa on the road to Praeneste was celebrated for baths of singular beauty and extent, for three stately rooms of an hundred feet in length, and for a magnificent portico, supported by two hundred columns of the four most curious and costly sorts of marble. The public⁴² shows exhibited at his expense, and in which the people⁴² were entertained with many hundreds of wild beasts and gladiators, seem to surpass the fortune⁴² of a subject; and, whilst the liberality of other magistrates was confined to a few solemn festivals in Rome⁴², the magnificence of Gordian was repeated, when he was aedile, every month in the year, and extended, during his consulship, to the principal cities of Italy. He was twice elevated to the last-mentioned dignity⁴², by Caracalla and by Alexander; for he possessed the uncommon talent of acquiring the esteem of virtuous princes, without alarming the jealousy of tyrants. His long⁴² life was innocently spent in the study of letters and the peaceful honours of Rome⁴²; and, till he was named proconsul of Africa by the voice of the senate⁴² and the approbation of Alexander, he appears prudently to have declined the command⁴² of armies and the government of provinces. As long⁴² as that emperor⁴² lived, Africa was happy under the administration of his worthy representative; after the barbarous Maximin had usurped the throne, Gordianus alleviated the miseries which he was unable to prevent. When he reluctantly accepted the purple, he was above fourscore years⁴² old; a last and valuable remains of the happy age of the Antonines, whose virtues⁴² he revived⁴² in his own conduct, and celebrated in an elegant poem of thirty books. With the venerable proconsul, his son⁴², who had accompanied him into Africa as his lieutenant, was likewise declared emperor⁴². His manners were less pure, but his character was equally amiable with that of his father⁴². Twenty-two acknowledged concubines, and a library of sixty-two thousand volumes, attested the variety of his inclinations; and from the productions which he left behind him, it appears that both the one and the other were designed for use⁴² rather than for ostentation. The Roman⁴² people⁴² acknowledged in the features of the younger Gordian the resemblance of Scipio Africanus, recollected with pleasure that his mother was the grand-daughter of Antoninus Pius, and rested the public⁴² hope on those latent virtues⁴² which had hitherto, as they fondly imagined, lain concealed in the luxurious indolence of a private life.

As soon⁴⁷ as the Gordians had appeased the first tumult of a popular election they removed their court to Carthage. They were received with the acclamations of the Africans, who honoured their virtues, and who, since the visit of Hadrian, had never beheld the majesty of a Roman⁴⁷ emperor⁴⁷. But these vain acclamations neither strengthened nor confirmed the title of the Gordians. They were induced by principle, as well as interest, to solicit the approbation of the senate⁴⁷; and a deputation of the noblest provincials was sent, without delay, to Rome⁴⁷, to relate and justify the conduct⁴⁷ of their countrymen, who, having long⁴⁷ suffered with patience, were at length resolved to act with vigour. The letters of the new princes were modest and respectful, excusing the necessity which had obliged them to accept the Imperial⁴⁷ title, but submitting their election and their fate to the supreme judgment of the senate⁴⁷.

The inclinations of the senate⁴² were neither doubtful nor divided. The birth⁴² and noble alliances of the Gordians had intimately connected them with the most illustrious houses of Rome⁴². Their fortune⁴² had created many dependants in that assembly, their merit had acquired many friends. Their mild administration opened the flattering prospect of the restoration, not only of the civil, but even of the republican government. The terror of military violence, which had first obliged⁴² the senate⁴² to forget the murder of Alexander, and to ratify the election of a barbarian peasant, now produced a contrary effect, and provoked them to assert the injured rights of freedom and humanity. The hatred of Maximin towards the senate⁴² was declared and implacable; the tamest submission had not appeased his fury, the most cautious innocence would not remove his suspicions; and even the care of their own safety urged them to share the fortune⁴² of an enterprise, of which (if unsuccessful) they were sure to be the first victims. These considerations, and perhaps others of a more private nature, were debated in a previous conference of the consuls and the magistrates. As soon⁴² as their resolution was decided, they convoked in the temple⁴² of Castor the whole body of the senate⁴², according to an ancient form of secrecy, calculated to awaken their attention and to conceal their decrees. Conscript fathers, said the consul Syllanus, the two Gordians, both of consular dignity⁴², the one your proconsul, and the other your lieutenant, have been declared emperors by the general consent of Africa. Let us return⁴² thanks, he boldly continued, to the youth of Thysdrus; let us return⁴² thanks to the faithful people⁴² of Carthage, our generous deliverers from a horrid monster. — Why do you hear me thus coolly, thus timidly? Why do you cast these anxious looks on each other? why hesitate? Maximin is a public⁴² enemy! may his enmity soon⁴² expire with him, and may we long⁴² enjoy the prudence and felicity of Gordian the father⁴², the valour and constancy of Gordian the son⁴²! The noble ardour of the consul revived⁴² the languid spirit of the senate⁴². By an unanimous decree the election of the Gordians was ratified; Maximin, his son⁴², and his adherents were pronounced enemies of their country⁴², and liberal rewards were offered to whomsoever had the courage and good fortune⁴² to destroy them.

During the emperor⁴⁷'s absence a detachment of the Praetorian guards remained at Rome⁴⁷, to protect, or rather to command⁴⁷, the capital. The prefect⁴⁷ Vitalianus had signalised his fidelity to Maximin by the alacrity with which he had obeyed, and even prevented, the cruel mandates of the tyrant⁴⁷. His death⁴⁷ alone could rescue the authority⁴⁷ of the senate⁴⁷, and the lives of the senators, from a state of danger⁴⁷ and suspense. Before their resolves had transpired, a quaestor and some tribunes were commissioned to take his devoted life⁴⁷. They executed the order with equal boldness and success; and, with their bloody daggers in their hands, ran through the streets, proclaiming to the people⁴⁷ and the soldiers⁴⁷ the news of the happy revolution. The enthusiasm of liberty was seconded by the promise of a large donative in lands and money; the statues of Maximin were thrown down; the capital of the empire⁴⁷ acknowledged, with transport, the authority⁴⁷ of the two Gordians and the senate⁴⁷; and the example of Rome⁴⁷ was followed by the rest of Italy⁴⁷.

A new spirit⁴⁷ had arisen in that assembly, whose long⁴⁷ patience had been insulted by wanton despotism and military⁴⁷ licence. The senate⁴⁷ assumed the reins of government⁴⁷, and, with a calm intrepidity, prepared to vindicate by arms⁴⁷ the cause of freedom. Among the consular senators recommended by their merit⁴⁷ and services to the favour of the emperor⁴⁷ Alexander, it was easy to select twenty, not unequal to the command⁴⁷ of an army⁴⁷ and the conduct⁴⁷ of a war⁴⁷. To these was the defence of Italy⁴⁷ entrusted. Each was appointed to act in his respective department, authorised to enrol and discipline the Italian youth, and instructed to fortify the ports and highways against the impending invasion of Maximin. A number of deputies, chosen from the most illustrious of the senatorian and equestrian orders, were despatched at the same time to the governors of the several provinces⁴⁷, earnestly conjuring them to fly to the assistance of their country, and to remind the nations of their ancient ties of friendship with the Roman⁴⁷ senate⁴⁷ and people⁴⁷. The general⁴⁷ respect with which these deputies were received, and the zeal of Italy⁴⁷ and the provinces⁴⁷ in favour of the senate⁴⁷, sufficiently prove that the subjects of Maximin were reduced to that uncommon distress, in which the body of the people⁴⁷ has more to fear from oppression than from resistance. The consciousness of that melancholy truth inspires a degree of persevering fury seldom to be found in those civil⁴⁷ wars which are artificially supported for the benefit of a few factious and designing leaders.

For, while the cause of the Gordians was embraced with such diffusive ardour, the Gordians themselves were no more. The feeble court of Carthage was alarmed with the rapid approach of Capelianus, governor of Mauritania, who, with a small band of veterans and a fierce host of barbarians, attacked a faithful but unwarlike province. The younger Gordian sallied out to meet the enemy at the head of a few guards, and a numerous undisciplined multitude, educated in the peaceful luxury of Carthage. His useless valour served only to procure him an honourable death⁴⁷ in the field of battle. His aged father⁴⁷, whose reign⁴⁷ had not exceeded thirty-six days, put an end to his life⁴⁷ on the first news of the defeat. Carthage, destitute of defence, opened her gates to the conqueror, and Africa was exposed to the rapacious cruelty of a slave, obliged to satisfy his unrelenting master⁴⁷ with a large account of blood and treasure.

The fate of the Gordians filled Rome⁴⁷ with just, but unexpected, terror. The senate⁴⁷, convoked in the temple of Concord, affected to transact the common business of the day; and seemed to decline, with trembling anxiety, the consideration of their own, and the public⁴⁷, danger⁴⁷. A silent consternation prevailed on the assembly, till a senator, of the name and family of Trajan, awakened his brethren from their fatal lethargy. He represented to them that the choice of cautious dilatory measures had been long⁴⁷ since out of their power⁴⁷; that Maximin, implacable by nature and exasperated by injuries, was advancing towards Italy⁴⁷, at the head of the military⁴⁷ force of the empire⁴⁷; and that their only remaining alternative was either to meet him bravely in the field, or tamely to expect the tortures and ignominious death⁴⁷ reserved for unsuccessful rebellion. We have lost, continued he, two excellent princes; but, unless we desert ourselves, the hopes of the republic have not perished with the Gordians. Many are the senators whose virtues have deserved, and whose abilities would sustain, the Imperial⁴⁷ dignity. Let us elect two emperors, one of whom may conduct⁴⁷ the war⁴⁷ against the public⁴⁷ enemy, whilst his colleague remains at Rome⁴⁷ to direct the civil⁴⁷ administration. I cheerfully expose myself to the danger⁴⁷ and envy of the nomination, and give my vote in favour of Maximus and Balbinus. Ratify my choice, conscript fathers, or appoint, in their place, others more worthy of the empire⁴⁷. The general⁴⁷ apprehension silenced the whispers of jealousy; the merit⁴⁷ of the candidates was universally acknowledged; and the house resounded with the sincere acclamations of Long⁴⁷ life⁴⁷ and victory to the Emperors Maximus and Balbinus. You are happy in the judgment of the senate⁴⁷; may the republic be happy under your administration!

The virtues and the reputation of the new emperors justified the most sanguine hopes of the Romans. The various nature of their talents seemed to appropriate to each his peculiar department of peace and war⁴⁷, without leaving room for jealous emulation. Balbinus was an admired orator, a poet of distinguished fame, and a wise magistrate, who had exercised with innocence and applause the civil⁴⁷ jurisdiction in almost all the interior provinces⁴⁷ of the empire⁴⁷. His birth was noble, his fortune affluent, his manners liberal and affable. In him, the love of pleasure was corrected by a sense of dignity, nor had the habits of ease deprived him of a capacity for business. The mind of Maximus was formed in a rougher mould. By his valour and abilities he had raised himself from the meanest origin to the first employments of the state and army⁴⁷. His victories over the Sarmatians and the Germans, the austerity of his life⁴⁷, and the rigid impartiality of his justice⁴⁷ whilst he was prefect⁴⁷ of the city⁴⁷, commanded the esteem of a people⁴⁷ whose affections were engaged in favour of the more amiable Balbinus. The two colleagues had both been consul (Balbinus had twice enjoyed that honourable office), both had been named among the twenty lieutenants of the senate⁴⁷; and, since the one was sixty and the other seventy-four years old, they had both attained the full maturity of age⁴⁷ and experience.

After the senate²¹ had conferred on Maximus²¹ and Balbinus an equal²¹ portion of the consular and tribunitian powers, the title²¹ of Fathers of their country, and the joint office of Supreme²¹ Pontiff, they ascended to the Capitol²¹ to return thanks to the gods, protectors of Rome²¹. The solemn²¹ rites of sacrifice were disturbed by a sedition of the people²¹. The licentious multitude²¹ neither loved the rigid Maximus²¹, nor did they sufficiently fear the mild and humane Balbinus. Their increasing numbers surrounded the temple of Jupiter; with obstinate clamours they asserted their inherent right of consenting to the election of their sovereign²¹: and demanded, with an apparent moderation, that, besides the two emperors²¹ chosen by the senate²¹, a third should be added of the family of the Gordians, as a just return of gratitude to those princes²¹ who had sacrificed their lives for the republic²¹. At the head²¹ of the city guards and the youth of the equestrian order, Maximus²¹ and Balbinus attempted²¹ to cut their way through the seditious multitude²¹. The multitude²¹, armed with sticks and stones, drove them back into the Capitol²¹. It is prudent to yield, when the contest, whatever may be the issue of it, must be fatal to both parties. A boy, only thirteen²¹ years of age, the grandson of the elder and nephew of the younger Gordian, was produced to the people²¹, invested with the ornaments and title²¹ of Caesar. The tumult was appeased by this easy condescension; and the two emperors²¹, as soon²¹ as they had been peaceably acknowledged in Rome²¹, prepared to defend Italy²¹ against the common enemy.

Whilst in Rome⁴⁷ and Africa revolutions succeeded each other with such amazing rapidity, the mind of Maximin was agitated by the most furious passions. He is said to have received the news of the rebellion of the Gordians, and of the decree of the senate⁴⁷ against him, not with the temper of a man, but the rage of a wild beast; which, as it could not discharge itself on the distant senate⁴⁷, threatened the life⁴⁷ of his son⁴⁷, of his friends, and of all who ventured to approach his person⁴⁷. The grateful intelligence of the death⁴⁷ of the Gordians was quickly followed by the assurance that the senate⁴⁷, laying aside all hopes of pardon or accommodation, had substituted in their room two emperors, with whose merit⁴⁷ he could not be unacquainted. Revenge was the only consolation left to Maximin, and revenge could only be obtained by arms⁴⁷. The strength of the legions had been assembled by Alexander from all parts of the empire⁴⁷. Three successful campaigns against the Germans and the Sarmatians had raised their fame, confirmed their discipline, and even increased their numbers, by filling the ranks with the flower of the barbarian youth. The life⁴⁷ of Maximin had been spent in war⁴⁷, and the candid severity of history cannot refuse him the valour of a soldier, or even the abilities of an experienced general⁴⁷. It might naturally be expected that a prince⁴⁷ of such a character, instead of suffering the rebellion to gain stability by delay, should immediately have marched from the banks of the Danube to those of the Tiber, and that his victorious army⁴⁷, instigated by contempt for the senate⁴⁷, and eager to gather the spoils of Italy⁴⁷, should have burned with impatience to finish the easy and lucrative conquest. Yet, as far as we can trust to the obscure chronology of that period, it appears that the operations of some foreign war⁴⁷ deferred the Italian expedition till the ensuing spring. From the prudent conduct⁴⁷ of Maximin, we may learn that the savage features of his character have been exaggerated by the pencil of party; that his passions, however impetuous, submitted to the force of reason; and that the barbarian possessed something of the generous spirit⁴⁷ of Sylla, who subdued the enemies of Rome⁴⁷ before he suffered himself to revenge his private⁴⁷ injuries.

When the troops⁹ of Maximin, advancing in excellent order, arrived at the foot of the Julian Alps, they were terrified by the silence and desolation that reigned on the frontiers of Italy⁹. The villages and open towns had been abandoned, on their approach, by the inhabitants⁹, the cattle was driven away, the provisions removed or destroyed, the bridges broken down, nor was anything left which could afford either shelter or subsistence to an invader. Such had been the wise orders of the generals of the senate, whose design was to protract the war⁹, to ruin the army⁹ of Maximin by the slow operation of famine, and to consume his strength in the sieges of the principal cities⁹ of Italy⁹, which they had plentifully stored with men⁹ and provisions from the deserted country⁹. Aquileia received and withstood the first shock of the invasion. The streams that issue from the head of the Hadriatic gulf, swelled by the melting of the winter snows, opposed an unexpected obstacle to the arms⁹ of Maximin. At length, on a singular bridge, constructed, with art and difficulty, of large hogsheads, he transported his army⁹ to the opposite bank, rooted up the beautiful vineyards in the neighbourhood of Aquileia, demolished the suburbs, and employed the timber of the buildings in the engines and towers with which on every side he attacked the city⁹. The walls⁹, fallen to decay during the security of a long⁹ peace, had been hastily repaired on this sudden emergency; but the firmest defence of Aquileia consisted in the constancy of the citizens; all ranks of whom, instead of being dismayed, were animated by the extreme danger, and their knowledge of the tyrant's unrelenting temper. Their courage was supported and directed by Crispinus and Menophilus, two of the twenty lieutenants of the senate, who, with a small body of regular troops⁹, had thrown themselves into the besieged place. The army⁹ of Maximin was repulsed in repeated attacks, his machines destroyed by showers of artificial fire; and the generous enthusiasm of the Aquileians was exalted into a confidence of success, by the opinion that Belenus, their tutelar deity, combated in person in the defence of his distressed worshippers.

The emperor⁴⁷ Maximus, who had advanced as far as Ravenna, to secure that important place and to hasten the military⁴⁷ preparations, beheld the event of the war⁴⁷ in the more faithful mirror of reason and policy. He was too sensible that a single town could not resist the persevering efforts of a great army⁴⁷; and he dreaded lest the enemy, tired with the obstinate resistance of Aquileia, should on a sudden relinquish the fruitless siege and march directly towards Rome⁴⁷. The fate of the empire⁴⁷ and the cause of freedom must then be committed to the chance of a battle; and what arms⁴⁷ could he oppose to the veteran legions of the Rhine and Danube? Some troops⁴⁷ newly levied among the generous but enervated youth of Italy⁴⁷, and a body of German auxiliaries, on whose firmness, in the hour of trial, it was dangerous to depend. In the midst of these just alarms, the stroke of domestic conspiracy punished the crimes of Maximin and delivered Rome⁴⁷ and the senate⁴⁷ from the calamities that would surely have attended the victory of an enraged barbarian.

The people¹⁸ of Aquileia had scarcely experienced any of the common miseries of a siege; their magazines were plentifully supplied, and several fountains within the walls assured them of an inexhaustible resource of fresh water. The soldiers of Maximin were, on the contrary, exposed to the inclemency of the season, the contagion of disease, and the horrors of famine. The naked country was ruined, the rivers filled with the slain and polluted with blood. A spirit of despair and disaffection began to diffuse itself among the troops; and, as they were cut off from all intelligence, they easily believed that the whole empire had embraced the cause of the senate, and that they were left as devoted victims to perish under the impregnable walls of Aquileia. The fierce temper of the tyrant was exasperated by disappointments, which he imputed to the cowardice of his army; and his wanton and ill-timed cruelty, instead of striking terror, inspired hatred and a just desire of revenge. A party of Praetorian guards, who trembled for their wives and children in the camp of Alba, near Rome, executed the sentence of the senate. Maximin, abandoned by his guards, was slain in his tent, with his son (whom he had associated to the honours of the purple), Anulinus the prefect, and the principal ministers of his tyranny. The sight of their heads, borne on the point of spears, convinced the citizens of Aquileia that the siege was at an end; the gates of the city¹⁸ were thrown open¹⁸, a liberal market was provided for the hungry troops of Maximin, and the whole army joined in solemn protestations of fidelity to the senate and people¹⁸ of Rome, and to their lawful emperors Maximus and Balbinus. Such was the deserved fate of a brutal savage, destitute, as he has generally been represented, of every sentiment that distinguishes a civilised, or even a human, being. The body¹⁸ was suited to the soul¹⁸. The stature of Maximin exceeded the measure of eight feet¹⁸, and circumstances almost incredible are related of his matchless strength and appetite. Had he lived in a less enlightened age¹⁸, tradition and poetry might well have described him as one of those monstrous giants, whose supernatural power was constantly exerted for the destruction of mankind.

It is easier to conceive than to describe the universal joy of the Roman⁴⁷ world on the fall of the tyrant⁴⁷, the news of which is said to have been carried in four days from Aquileia to Rome⁴⁷. The return of Maximus was a triumphal procession; his colleague and young Gordian went out to meet him, and the three princes made their entry into the capital, attended by the ambassadors of almost all the cities of Italy⁴⁷, saluted with the splendid offerings of gratitude and superstition, and received with the unfeigned acclamations of the senate⁴⁷ and people⁴⁷, who persuaded themselves that a golden age⁴⁷ would succeed to an age⁴⁷ of iron. The conduct⁴⁷ of the two emperors corresponded with these expectations. They administered justice⁴⁷ in person⁴⁷; and the rigour of the one was tempered by the other's clemency. The oppressive taxes with which Maximin had loaded the rights of inheritance and succession were repealed, or at least moderated. Discipline was revived, and with the advice of the senate⁴⁷ many wise laws were enacted by their Imperial⁴⁷ ministers, who endeavoured to restore a civil⁴⁷ constitution on the ruins of military⁴⁷ tyranny. What reward may we expect for delivering Rome⁴⁷ from a monster? was the question asked by Maximus, in a moment of freedom and confidence. Balbinus answered it without hesitation, The love of the senate⁴⁷, of the people⁴⁷, and of all mankind. Alas! replied his more penetrating colleague, Alas! I dread the hatred of the soldiers⁴⁷, and the fatal effects of their resentment. His apprehensions were but too well justified by the event.

Whilst Maximus was preparing to defend Italy⁴⁷ against the common foe, Balbinus, who remained at Rome⁴⁷, had been engaged in scenes of blood and intestine discord. Distrust and jealousy reigned in the senate⁴⁷; and even in the temples where they assembled every senator carried either open or concealed arms⁴⁷. In the midst of their deliberations, two veterans of the guards, actuated either by curiosity or a sinister motive, audaciously thrust themselves into the house, and advanced by degrees beyond the altar of Victory. Gallicanus, a consular, and Maecenas, a praetorian senator, viewed with indignation their insolent intrusion: drawing their daggers, they laid the spies, for such they deemed them, dead at the foot of the altar, and then, advancing to the door of the senate⁴⁷, imprudently exhorted the multitude to massacre the Praetorians as the secret⁴⁷ adherents of the tyrant⁴⁷. Those who escaped the first fury of the tumult took refuge in the camp, which they defended with superior advantage against the reiterated attacks of the people⁴⁷, assisted by the numerous bands of gladiators, the property of opulent nobles. The civil⁴⁷ war⁴⁷ lasted many days, with infinite loss and confusion on both sides. When the pipes were broken that supplied the camp with water, the Praetorians were reduced to intolerable distress; but, in their turn, they made desperate sallies into the city⁴⁷, set fire to a great number of houses, and filled the streets with the blood of the inhabitants. The emperor⁴⁷ Balbinus attempted, by ineffectual edicts and precarious truces, to reconcile the factions of Rome⁴⁷. But their animosity, though smothered for a while, burnt with redoubled violence. The soldiers⁴⁷, detesting the senate⁴⁷ and the people⁴⁷, despised the weakness of a prince⁴⁷ who wanted either the spirit⁴⁷ or the power⁴⁷ to command⁴⁷ the obedience of his subjects.

After the tyrant⁴⁷'s death⁴⁷ his formidable army⁴⁷ had acknowledged, from necessity rather than from choice, the authority⁴⁷ of Maximus, who transported himself without delay to the camp before Aquileia. As soon⁴⁷ as he had received their oath of fidelity he addressed them in terms full of mildness and moderation; lamented rather than arraigned the wild disorders of the times, and assured the soldiers⁴⁷ that, of all their past conduct⁴⁷, the senate⁴⁷ would remember only their generous desertion of the tyrant⁴⁷ and their voluntary return to their duty. Maximus enforced his exhortations by a liberal donative, purified the camp by a solemn sacrifice of expiation, and then dismissed the legions to their several provinces⁴⁷, impressed, as he hoped, with a lively sense of gratitude and obedience. But nothing could reconcile the haughty spirit⁴⁷ of the Praetorians. They attended the emperors on the memorable day of their public⁴⁷ entry into Rome⁴⁷; but, amidst the general⁴⁷ acclamations, the sullen dejected countenance of the guards sufficiently declared that they considered themselves as the object, rather than the partners, of the triumph. When the whole body was united in their camp, those who had served under Maximin, and those who had remained at Rome⁴⁷, insensibly communicated to each other their complaints and apprehensions. The emperors chosen by the army⁴⁷ had perished with ignominy; those elected by the senate⁴⁷ were seated on the throne⁴⁷. The long⁴⁷ discord between the civil⁴⁷ and military⁴⁷ powers was decided by a war⁴⁷ in which the former had obtained a complete victory. The soldiers⁴⁷ must now learn a new doctrine of submission to the senate⁴⁷; and, whatever clemency was affected by that politic assembly, they dreaded a slow revenge, coloured by the name of discipline, and justified by fair pretences of the public⁴⁷ good. But their fate was still in their own hands; and, if they had courage to despise the vain terrors of an impotent republic, it was easy to convince the world that those who were masters of the arms⁴⁷ were masters of the authority⁴⁷ of the state.

When the senate⁴⁷ elected two princes, it is probable that, besides the declared reason of providing for the various emergencies of peace and war⁴⁷, they were actuated by the secret⁴⁷ desire of weakening by division the despotism of the supreme magistrate. Their policy was effectual, but it proved fatal both to their emperors and to themselves. The jealousy of power⁴⁷ was soon⁴⁷ exasperated by the difference of character. Maximus despised Balbinus as a luxurious noble, and was in his turn disdained by his colleague as an obscure soldier. Their silent discord was understood rather than seen; but the mutual consciousness prevented them from uniting in any vigorous measures of defence against their common enemies of the Praetorian camp. The whole city⁴⁷ was employed in the Capitoline games, and the emperors were left almost alone in the palace⁴⁷. On a sudden they were alarmed by the approach of a troop of desperate assassins. Ignorant of each other's situation or designs, for they already occupied very distant apartments, afraid to give or to receive assistance, they wasted the important moments in idle debates and fruitless recriminations. The arrival of the guards put an end to the vain strife. They seized on these emperors of the senate⁴⁷, for such they called them with malicious contempt, stripped them of their garments, and dragged them in insolent triumph through the streets of Rome⁴⁷, with a design of inflicting a slow and cruel death⁴⁷ on these unfortunate princes. The fear of a rescue from the faithful Germans of the Imperial⁴⁷ guards shortened their tortures; and their bodies, mangled with a thousand wounds, were left exposed to the insults or to the pity of the populace.

In the space of a few months six princes had been cut off by the sword. Gordian, who had already received the title of Caesar, was the only person⁴⁷ that occurred to the soldiers⁴⁷ as proper to fill the vacant throne⁴⁷. They carried him to the camp and unanimously saluted him Augustus and Emperor⁴⁷. His name was dear to the senate⁴⁷ and people⁴⁷; his tender age⁴⁷ promised a long⁴⁷ impunity of military⁴⁷ licence; and the submission of Rome⁴⁷ and the provinces⁴⁷ to the choice of the Praetorian guards saved the republic, at the expense indeed of its freedom and dignity, from the horrors of a new civil⁴⁷ war⁴⁷ in the heart of the capital.

As the third Gordian was only nineteen years of age⁴⁷ at the time of his death⁴⁷, the history of his life⁴⁷, were it known to us with greater accuracy than it really is, would contain little more than the account of his education and the conduct⁴⁷ of the ministers who by turns abused or guided the simplicity of his inexperienced youth. Immediately after his accession he fell into the hands of his mother's eunuchs, that pernicious vermin of the East⁴⁷, who, since the days of Elagabalus, had infested the Roman⁴⁷ palace⁴⁷. By the artful conspiracy of these wretches an impenetrable veil was drawn between an innocent prince⁴⁷ and his oppressed subjects, the virtuous disposition of Gordian was deceived, and the honours of the empire⁴⁷ sold without his knowledge, though in a very public⁴⁷ manner, to the most worthless of mankind. We are ignorant by what fortunate accident the emperor⁴⁷ escaped from this ignominious slavery, and devolved his confidence on a minister whose wise counsels had no object except the glory of the sovereign⁴⁷ and the happiness of the people⁴⁷. It should seem that love and learning introduced Misitheus to the favour of Gordian. The young prince⁴⁷ married the daughter of his master⁴⁷ of rhetoric, and promoted his father⁴⁷-in-law to the first offices of the empire⁴⁷. Two admirable letters that passed between them are still extant. The minister, with the conscious dignity of virtue, congratulates Gordian that he is delivered from the tyranny of the eunuchs, and still more, that he is sensible of his deliverance. The emperor⁴⁷ acknowledges, with an amiable confusion, the errors of his past conduct⁴⁷; and laments, with singular propriety, the misfortune of a monarch from whom a venal tribe of courtiers perpetually labour to conceal the truth.

The life⁴⁷ of Misitheus had been spent in the profession of letters, not of arms⁴⁷; yet such was the versatile genius of that great man that, when he was appointed Praetorian prefect⁴⁷, he discharged the military⁴⁷ duties of his place with vigour and ability. The Persians had invaded Mesopotamia, and threatened Antioch. By the persuasion of his father⁴⁷-in-law, the young emperor⁴⁷ quitted the luxury of Rome⁴⁷, opened, for the last time recorded in history, the temple of Janus, and marched in person⁴⁷ into the East⁴⁷. On his approach with a great army⁴⁷, the Persians withdrew their garrisons from the cities which they had already taken, and retired from the Euphrates to the Tigris. Gordian enjoyed the pleasure of announcing to the senate⁴⁷ the first success of his arms⁴⁷, which he ascribed with a becoming modesty and gratitude to the wisdom of his father⁴⁷ and prefect⁴⁷. During the whole expedition, Misitheus watched over the safety and discipline of the army⁴⁷; whilst he prevented their dangerous murmurs by maintaining a regular plenty in the camp, and by establishing ample magazines of vinegar, bacon, straw, barley, and wheat, in all the cities of the frontier. But the prosperity of Gordian expired with Misitheus, who died of a flux, not without very strong suspicions of poison. Philip, his successor in the prefecture, was an Arab by birth, and consequently, in the earlier part of his life⁴⁷, a robber by profession. His rise from so obscure a station to the first dignities of the empire⁴⁷ seems to prove that he was a bold and able leader. But his boldness prompted him to aspire to the throne⁴⁷, and his abilities were employed to supplant, not to serve, his indulgent master⁴⁷. The minds of the soldiers⁴⁷ were irritated by an artificial scarcity, created by his contrivance in the camp; and the distress of the army⁴⁷ was attributed to the youth and incapacity of the prince⁴⁷. It is not in our power⁴⁷ to trace the successive steps of the secret⁴⁷ conspiracy and open sedition which were at length fatal to Gordian. A sepulchral monument was erected to his memory on the spot where he was killed, near the conflux of the Euphrates with the little river Aboras. The fortunate Philip, raised to the empire⁴⁷ by the votes of the soldiers⁴⁷, found a ready obedience from the senate⁴⁷ and the provinces⁴⁷.

We cannot forbear transcribing the ingenious, though somewhat fanciful, description, which a celebrated writer of our own times has traced of the military⁶ government⁶ of the Roman⁶ empire⁶. What in that age⁶ was called the Roman⁶ empire⁶ was only an irregular republic, not unlike the aristocracy of Algiers, where the militia, possessed of the sovereignty, creates and deposes a magistrate, who is styled a Dey. Perhaps, indeed, it may be laid down as a general rule, that a military⁶ government⁶ is, in some respects, more republican than monarchical. Nor can it be said that the soldiers only partook of the government⁶ by their disobedience and rebellions. The speeches made to them by the emperors⁶, were they not at length of the same nature⁶ as those formerly pronounced to the people⁶ by the consuls and the tribunes? And although the armies had no regular place or forms of assembly, though their debates were short, their action sudden, and their resolves seldom the result of cool reflection, did they not dispose, with absolute⁶ sway, of the public⁶ fortune? What was the emperor, except the minister of a violent government⁶, elected for the private⁶ benefit of the soldiers?

When the army⁴⁷ had elected Philip, who was Praetorian prefect⁴⁷ to the third Gordian, the latter demanded that he might remain sole emperor⁴⁷; he was unable to obtain it. He requested that the power⁴⁷ might be equally divided between them; the army⁴⁷ would not listen to his speech. He consented to be degraded to the rank⁴⁷ of Caesar; the favour was refused him. He desired, at least, he might be appointed Praetorian prefect⁴⁷; his prayer was rejected. Finally, he pleaded for his life⁴⁷. The army⁴⁷, in these several judgments, exercised the supreme magistracy. According to the historian, whose doubtful narrative the president De Montesquieu has adopted, Philip, who, during the whole transaction, had preserved a sullen silence, was inclined to spare the innocent life⁴⁷ of his benefactor; till, recollecting that his innocence might excite a dangerous compassion in the Roman⁴⁷ world, he commanded, without regard to his suppliant cries, that he should be seized, stript, and led away to instant death⁴⁷. After a moment's pause the inhuman sentence was executed.

On his return from the East to Rome, Philip, desirous of obliterating the memory of his crimes, and of captivating the affections of the people³⁰, solemnised the secular games with infinite pomp and magnificence. Since their institution or revival by Augustus, they had been celebrated by Claudius, by Domitian, and by Severus, and were now renewed, the fifth time, on the accomplishment of the full period of a thousand³⁰ years³⁰ from the foundation of Rome. Every circumstance of the secular games was skilfully adapted to inspire the superstitious mind with deep and solemn reverence. The long³⁰ interval between them exceeded the term of human life; and, as none of the spectators had already seen them, none could flatter themselves with the expectation of beholding them a second³⁰ time. The mystic sacrifices were performed, during three nights, on the banks of the Tiber; and the Campus Martius resounded with music and dances, and was illuminated with innumerable lamps and torches. Slaves and strangers were excluded from any participation in these national ceremonies. A chorus of twenty-seven youths, and as many virgins, of noble families, and whose parents were both alive, implored the propitious gods in favour of the present, and for the hope of the rising generation; requesting, in religious hymns, that, according to the faith of their ancient oracles, they would still maintain the virtue, the felicity, and the empire³⁰ of the Roman³⁰ people³⁰. The magnificence of Philip's shows and entertainments dazzled the eyes of the multitude. The devout were employed in the rites of superstition, whilst the reflecting few revolved in their anxious minds the past history and the future fate of the empire³⁰.

Since Romulus, with a small band of shepherds and outlaws, fortified himself on the hills near the Tiber, ten centuries had already elapsed. During the four first ages, the Romans⁹, in the laborious school of poverty, had acquired the virtues of war⁹ and government: by the vigorous exertion of those virtues, and by the assistance of fortune, they had obtained, in the course of the three succeeding centuries, an absolute empire⁹ over many countries of Europe⁹, Asia⁹, and Africa⁹. The last three hundred years had been consumed in apparent prosperity and internal decline. The nation⁹ of soldiers, magistrates, and legislators, who composed the thirty-five tribes⁹ of the Roman⁹ people, was dissolved into the common mass of mankind, and confounded with the millions of servile provincials, who had received the name, without adopting the spirit, of Romans⁹. A mercenary army⁹, levied among the subjects and barbarians⁹ of the frontier, was the only order of men⁹ who preserved and abused their independence. By their tumultuary election, a Syrian, a Goth, or an Arab, was exalted to the throne of Rome⁹, and invested with despotic power over the conquests and over the country⁹ of the Scipios.

The limits of the Roman⁹ empire⁹ still extended from the Western Ocean⁹ to the Tigris, and from Mount Atlas to the Rhine and the Danube⁹. To the undiscerning eye of the vulgar, Philip appeared a monarch no less powerful than Hadrian or Augustus had formerly been. The form was still the same, but the animating health and vigour were fled. The industry of the people was discouraged and exhausted by a long⁹ series of oppression. The discipline of the legions, which alone, after the extinction of every other virtue, had propped the greatness of the state, was corrupted by the ambition, or relaxed by the weakness, of the emperors. The strength of the frontiers, which had always consisted in arms⁹ rather than in fortifications, was insensibly undermined; and the fairest provinces⁹ were left exposed to the rapaciousness or ambition of the barbarians⁹, who soon⁹ discovered the decline of the Roman⁹ empire⁹.

Whenever Tacitus indulges himself in those beautiful episodes, in which he relates some domestic transaction of the Germans or of the Parthians, his principal object is to relieve the attention of the reader from a uniform scene of vice and misery. From the reign¹⁵ of Augustus to the time of Alexander Severus¹⁵, the enemies of Rome¹⁵ were in her bosom — the tyrants, and the soldiers; and her prosperity had a very distant and feeble interest in the revolutions that might happen beyond the Rhine and the Euphrates. But, when the military order had levelled in wild anarchy the power¹⁵ of the prince, the laws of the senate¹⁵, and even the discipline of the camp, the barbarians of the North and of the East¹⁵, who had long¹⁵ hovered on the frontier, boldly attacked the provinces¹⁵ of a declining monarchy. Their vexatious inroads were changed into formidable irruptions, and, after a long¹⁵ vicissitude of mutual calamities, many tribes of the victorious invaders established themselves in the provinces¹⁵ of the Roman¹⁵ empire¹⁵. To obtain a clearer knowledge of these great¹⁵ events we shall¹⁵ endeavour to form a previous idea of the character¹⁵, forces, and designs of those nations¹⁵ who avenged the cause of Hannibal and Mithridates.

In the more early ages of the world, whilst the forest that covered Europe⁹ afforded a retreat to a few wandering savages, the inhabitants⁹ of Asia⁹ were already collected into populous cities⁹, and reduced under extensive empires, the seat of the arts, of luxury and of despotism. The Assyrians reigned over the East, till the sceptre of Ninus and Semiramis dropt from the hands of their enervated successors. The Medes and the Babylonians divided their power, and were themselves swallowed up in the monarchy of the Persians, whose arms⁹ could not be confined within the narrow limits of Asia⁹. Followed, as it is said, by two millions of men⁹, Xerxes, the descendant of Cyrus, invaded Greece. Thirty thousand⁹ soldiers, under the command of Alexander, the son of Philip, who was entrusted by the Greeks with their glory and revenge, were sufficient to subdue Persia. The princes of the house of Seleucus usurped and lost the Macedonian command over the East. About the same time that, by an ignominious treaty, they resigned to the Romans⁹ the country⁹ on this side Mount Taurus, they were driven by the Parthians, an obscure horde of Scythian origin, from all the provinces⁹ of Upper Asia⁹. The formidable power of the Parthians, which spread from India to the frontiers of Syria, was in its turn subverted by Ardshir, or Artaxerxes; the founder of a new⁹ dynasty, which, under the name of Sassanides, governed Persia till the invasion of the Arabs. This great⁹ revolution, whose fatal influence was soon⁹ experienced by the Romans⁹, happened in the fourth year of Alexander Severus, two hundred and twenty-six years after the Christian era.

Artaxerxes had served with great³ reputation in the armies of Artaban, the last king³ of the Parthians, and it appears that he was driven into exile and rebellion by royal³ ingratitude, the customary reward for superior merit. His birth was obscure, and the obscurity equally gave room to the aspersions of his enemies, and the flattery of his adherents. If we credit the scandal of the former, Artaxerxes sprang from the illegitimate commerce of a tanner's wife with a common soldier. The latter represents him as descended from a branch of the ancient kings of Persia³, though time and misfortune had gradually reduced his ancestors to the humble station of private citizens. As the lineal heir of the monarchy, he asserted his right to the throne³, and challenged the noble task of delivering the Persians³ from the oppression under which they groaned above five centuries since the death³ of Darius. The Parthians were defeated in three great³ battles. In the last of these their king³ Artaban was slain, and the spirit of the nation was for ever broken. The authority of Artaxerxes was solemnly acknowledged in a great³ assembly held at Balch in Khorasan. Two younger branches of the royal³ house of Arsaces were confounded among the prostrate satraps. A third, more mindful of ancient grandeur than of present necessity, attempted to retire with a numerous train of vassals, towards their kinsman, the king³ of Armenia³; but this little army³ of deserters was intercepted and cut off by the vigilance of the conqueror, who boldly assumed the double diadem, and the title of King³ of Kings, which had been enjoyed by his predecessor. But these pompous titles, instead of gratifying the vanity of the Persian³, served only to admonish him of his duty, and to inflame in his soul the ambition of restoring, in their full splendour, the religion and empire³ of Cyrus.

I. During the long³ servitude of Persia³ under the Macedonian and the Parthian yoke, the nations of Europe and Asia had mutually adopted and corrupted each other's superstitions. The Arsacides, indeed, practised the worship of the Magi; but they disgraced and polluted it with a various mixture of foreign idolatry. The memory of Zoroaster, the ancient prophet and philosopher of the Persians³, was still revered in the East³; but the obsolete and mysterious language in which the Zendavesta was composed, opened a field of dispute to seventy sects, who variously explained the fundamental doctrines of their religion, and were all equally derided by a crowd of infidels, who rejected the divine mission and miracles of the prophet. To suppress the idolaters, re-unite the schismatics, and confute the unbelievers by the infallible decision of a general³ council, the pious Artaxerxes summoned the Magi from all parts of his dominions. These priests, who had so long³ sighed in contempt and obscurity, obeyed the welcome summons; and on the appointed day appeared to the number of about eighty thousand³. But as the debates of so tumultuous an assembly could not have been directed by the authority of reason, or influenced by the art of policy, the Persian³ synod was reduced, by successive operations, to forty thousand³, to four thousand³, to four hundred, to forty, and at last to seven Magi, the most respected for their learning and piety. One of these, Erdaviraph, a young but holy prelate, received from the hands of his brethren three cups of soporiferous wine. He drank them off, and instantly fell into a long³ and profound sleep. As soon³ as he waked, he related to the king³ and to the believing multitude his journey to Heaven, and his intimate conferences with the Deity. Every doubt was silenced by this supernatural evidence; and the articles of the faith of Zoroaster were fixed with equal authority and precision. A short delineation of that celebrated system will be found useful, not only to display the character of the Persian³ nation, but to illustrate many of their most important³ transactions, both in peace³ and war³, with the Roman³ empire³.

The great⁶ and fundamental article of the system was the celebrated doctrine of the two principles; a bold and injudicious attempt of Eastern philosophy to reconcile the existence of moral and physical evil with the attributes of a beneficent Creator and Governor of the world⁶. The first and original Being, in whom, or by whom, the universe exists, is denominated in the writings of Zoroaster, Time⁶ without bounds; but it must be confessed that this infinite substance seems rather a metaphysical abstraction of the mind than a real object endowed with self-consciousness, or possessed of moral perfections. From either the blind or the intelligent operation of this infinite Time⁶, which bears but too near an affinity with the Chaos of the Greeks, the two secondary but active principles of the universe were from all eternity produced, Ormusd and Ahriman, each of them possessed of the powers of creation, but each disposed, by his invariable nature⁶, to exercise them with different designs. The principle of good is eternally absorbed in light: the principle of evil eternally buried in darkness. The wise benevolence of Ormusd formed man capable of virtue⁶, and abundantly provided his fair habitation with the materials of happiness. By his vigilant providence, the motion of the planets, the order of the seasons, and the temperate mixture of the elements are preserved. But the malice of Ahriman has long⁶ since pierced Ormusd's egg; or, in other words, has violated the harmony of his works. Since that fatal eruption, the most minute particles of good and evil are intimately intermingled and agitated together, the rankest poisons spring up amidst the most salutary plants; deluges, earthquakes, and conflagrations attest the conflict of Nature⁶; and the little world⁶ of man is perpetually shaken by vice and misfortune. Whilst the rest of human⁶ kind are led away captives in the chains of their infernal enemy, the faithful Persian alone reserves his religious adoration for his friend and protector Ormusd, and fights under his banner of light, in the full confidence that he shall, in the last day, share the glory of his triumph. At that decisive period the enlightened wisdom of goodness will render the power⁶ of Ormusd superior to the furious malice of his rival. Ahriman and his followers, disarmed and subdued, will sink into their native darkness; and virtue⁶ will maintain the eternal peace⁶ and harmony of the universe.

The theology of Zoroaster was darkly comprehended by foreigners, and even by the far greater number of his disciples; but the most careless observers were struck with the philosophic simplicity of the Persian worship⁸. That people, says Herodotus, rejects the use⁸ of temples⁸, of altars, and of statues, and smiles at the folly of those nations, who imagine that the gods⁸ are sprung from, or bear any affinity with, the human⁸ nature⁸. The tops of the highest mountains are the places chosen for sacrifices. Hymns and prayers are the principal worship⁸; the Supreme God⁸ who fills the wide circle of heaven, is the object to whom they are addressed. Yet, at the same time⁸, in the true spirit of a polytheist, he accuses them of adoring Earth, Water, Fire, the Winds, and the Sun and Moon. But the Persians of every age⁸ have denied the charge, and explained the equivocal conduct which might appear to give a colour to it. The elements, and more particularly Fire, Light, and the Sun, whom they called Mithra, were the objects of their religious⁸ reverence, because they considered them as the purest symbols, the noblest productions, and the most powerful agents of the Divine⁸ Power and Nature⁸.

Every mode of religion⁸, to make a deep and lasting impression on the human⁸ mind⁸, must exercise our obedience by enjoining practices of devotion⁸, for which we can assign no reason⁸; and must acquire our esteem, by inculcating moral duties analogous to the dictates of our own hearts. The religion⁸ of Zoroaster was abundantly provided with the former, and possessed a sufficient portion of the latter. At the age⁸ of puberty the faithful Persian was invested with a mysterious girdle, the badge of the divine⁸ protection; and from that moment all the actions of his life⁸, even the most indifferent or the most necessary, were sanctified by their peculiar prayers, ejaculations, or genuflexions; the omission of which, under any circumstances, was a grievous sin, not inferior in guilt to the violation of the moral duties. The moral duties, however, of justice, mercy, liberality, &c., were in their turn required of the disciple of Zoroaster, who wished to escape the persecution of Ahriman, and to live with Ormusd in a blissful eternity, where the degree of felicity will be exactly proportioned to the degree of virtue⁸ and piety.

But there are some remarkable instances in which Zoroaster lays aside the prophet, assumes the legislator, and discovers a liberal concern for private and public happiness, seldom to be found among the grovelling or visionary schemes of superstition. Fasting and celibacy, the common means of purchasing the divine favour, he condemns with abhorrence, as a criminal rejection of the best gifts of providence. The saint, in the Magian religion, is obliged to beget children, to plant useful trees, to destroy noxious animals, to convey water to the dry lands of Persia, and to work out his salvation by pursuing all the labours⁵ of agriculture. We may quote from the Zend Avesta a wise and benevolent maxim, which compensates for many an absurdity. He who sows the ground with care and diligence acquires a greater stock of religious merit than he could gain by the repetition of ten thousand⁵ prayers. In the spring of every year a festival was celebrated, destined to represent the primitive equality, and the present connection, of mankind. The stately kings of Persia, exchanging their vain pomp for more genuine greatness, freely mingled with the humblest but most useful of their subjects. On that day⁵ the husbandmen were admitted, without distinction, to the table of the king and his satraps. The monarch accepted their petitions, inquired into their grievances, and conversed with them on the most equal terms. From your labours⁵, was he accustomed to say (and to say with truth, if not with sincerity), from your labours⁵ we receive our subsistence; you derive your tranquillity from our vigilance; since, therefore, we are mutually necessary to each other, let us live together like brothers in concord and love. Such a festival must indeed have degenerated, in a wealthy and despotic empire⁵, into a theatrical representation; but it was at least a comedy well worthy of a royal audience, and which might sometimes imprint a salutary lesson on the mind of a young prince.

Had Zoroaster, in all his institutions, invariably supported this exalted character⁸, his name would deserve a place with those of Numa and Confucius, and his system would be justly entitled to all the applause which it has pleased some of our divines, and even some of our philosophers, to bestow on it. But in that motley composition, dictated by reason⁸ and passion, by enthusiasm and by selfish motives, some useful and sublime truths were disgraced by a mixture of the most abject and dangerous superstition⁸. The Magi, or sacerdotal order, were extremely numerous, since, as we have already seen, fourscore thousand of them were convened in a general council. Their forces were multiplied by discipline. A regular hierarchy was diffused through all the provinces of Persia; and the Archimagus, who resided at Balch, was respected as the visible head of the church⁸, and the lawful successor of Zoroaster. The property of the Magi was very considerable. Besides the less invidious possession of a large tract of the most fertile lands of Media, they levied a general tax on the fortunes and the industry of the Persians. Though your good works, says the interested prophet, exceed in number the leaves of the trees, the drops of rain, the stars in the heaven, or the sands on the sea-shore, they will all be unprofitable to you, unless they are accepted by the destour, or priest. To obtain the acceptation of this guide to salvation, you must faithfully pay him tithes of all you possess, of your goods, of your lands, and of your money. If the destour be satisfied, your soul will escape hell tortures; you will secure praise in this world⁸ and happiness⁸ in the next. For the destours are the teachers of religion⁸; they know all things, and they deliver all men.

These convenient maxims of reverence and implicit faith⁸ were doubtless imprinted with care on the tender minds of youth; since the Magi were the masters of education in Persia, and to their hands the children even of the royal family were entrusted. The Persian priests, who were of a speculative genius, preserved and investigated the secrets of Oriental philosophy; and acquired, either by superior knowledge or superior art, the reputation of being well versed in some occult sciences, which have derived their appellation from the Magi. Those of more active dispositions mixed with the world⁸ in courts and cities; and it is observed that the administration of Artaxerxes was in a great measure directed by the counsels of the sacerdotal order, whose dignity, either from policy or devotion⁸, that prince restored to its ancient⁸ splendour.

The first counsel of the Magi was agreeable to the unsociable genius of their faith, to the practice of ancient kings, and even to the example of their legislator, who had fallen a victim to a religious war¹⁰ excited by his own intolerant zeal. By an edict of Artaxerxes, the exercise¹⁰ of every worship, except that of Zoroaster, was severely prohibited. The temples of the Parthians, and the statues of their deified monarchs, were thrown down with ignominy. The sword of Aristotle (such was the name given by the Orientals to the polytheism and philosophy of the Greeks) was easily broken: the flames of persecution soon reached the more stubbom Jews and Christians; nor did they spare the heretics of their own nation¹⁰ and religion¹⁰. The majesty of Ormusd, who was jealous of a rival, was seconded by the despotism of Artaxerxes, who could not suffer a rebel; and the schismatics within his vast empire¹⁰ were soon reduced¹⁰ to the inconsiderable number of eighty thousand. This spirit of persecution reflects dishonour on the religion¹⁰ of Zoroaster; but, as it was not productive of any civil¹⁰ commotion, it served to strengthen the new¹⁰ monarchy by uniting all the various¹⁰ inhabitants of Persia in the bands of religious zeal.

II. Artaxerxes, by his valour⁹ and conduct, had wrested the sceptre of the East from the ancient⁹ royal family of Parthia. There still remained the more difficult task of establishing, throughout the vast extent of Persia, a uniform and vigorous administration. The weak indulgence of the Arsacides had resigned to their sons and brothers the principal provinces⁹ and the greatest offices of the kingdom, in the nature of hereditary possessions. The vitaxae, or eighteen most powerful satraps, were permitted to assume the regal title, and the vain pride of the monarch was delighted with a nominal dominion over so many vassal kings. Even tribes⁹ of barbarians⁹ in their mountains⁹, and the Greek cities⁹ of Upper Asia⁹, within their walls⁹, scarcely acknowledged, or seldom obeyed, any superior; and the Parthian empire⁹ exhibited, under other names, a lively image of the feudal system which has since prevailed in Europe⁹. But the active victor, at the head of a numerous and disciplined army⁹, visited in person every province⁹ of Persia. The defeat of the boldest rebels and the reduction of the strongest fortifications diffused the terror of his arms⁹ and prepared the way for the peaceful reception of his authority. An obstinate resistance was fatal to the chiefs; but their followers were treated with lenity. A cheerful submission was rewarded with honours and riches; but the prudent Artaxerxes, suffering no person except himself to assume the title of king, abolished every intermediate power between the throne and the people. His kingdom, nearly equal in extent to modern Persia, was, on every side, bounded by the sea⁹ or by great⁹ rivers, — by the Euphrates, the Tigris, the Araxes, the Oxus, and the Indus; by the Caspian Sea⁹ and the Gulf of Persia. That country⁹ was computed to contain, in the last century, five hundred and fifty-four cities⁹, sixty thousand⁹ villages, and about forty millions of souls. If we compare the administration of the house of Sassan with that of the house of Sesi, the political influence of the Magian with that of the Mahometan religion, we shall probably infer that the kingdom of Artaxerxes contained at least as great⁹ a number of cities⁹, villages, and inhabitants⁹. But it must likewise be confessed that in every age the want of harbours on the sea⁹ coast⁹, and the scarcity of fresh water in the inland provinces⁹, have been very unfavourable to the commerce and agriculture of the Persians; who, in the calculation of their numbers, seem to have indulged one of the meanest, though most common, artifices of national vanity.

As soon³ as the ambitious mind of Artaxerxes had triumphed over the resistance of his vassals, he began to threaten the neighbouring states, who, during the long³ slumber of his predecessors, had insulted Persia³ with impunity. He obtained some easy victories over the wild Scythians and the effeminate Indians; but the Romans³ were an enemy³ who, by their past injuries and present power, deserved the utmost efforts of his arms³. A forty years³' tranquillity, the fruit of valour³ and moderation, had succeeded the victories of Trajan. During the period that elapsed from the accession of Marcus to the reign³ of Alexander, the Roman³ and the Parthian empires were twice engaged in war³; and, although the whole strength of the Arsacides contended with a part only of the forces of Rome, the event was most commonly in favour of the latter. Macrinus, indeed, prompted by his precarious situation and pusillanimous temper, purchased a peace³ at the expense of near two millions of our money; but the generals of Marcus, the emperor³ Severus, and his son³, erected many trophies in Armenia³, Mesopotamia, and Assyria. Among their exploits, the imperfect relation of which would have unseasonably interrupted the more important³ series of domestic revolutions, we shall only mention the repeated calamities of the two great³ cities of Seleucia and Ctesiphon.